Illusive Eden - He Pretends He's the Hero

(Hours Ago)

Twenty-five men were currently guarding the shelter. Dozing off, eye lids flickering in sleepiness, fatigue consumed them, as most of the men were slumbrous, seated on the stairs.

The murmers and curses towards the rumbling footing of disaster in their home, converged with the violent uproar in the countryside.

Rhett stood below the stairs, arms crossed by the wall, wearing a grim expression.

"Mr. Lei, are you not sleepy?" Asks the man, analyzing his fresh countenance.

Rhett lazily glances at him, discerning the nosy man to be Jason, Mr. Barlowe's older son. He stood beside him, dizzy and jaded.

Jayden, seated on the close end of stairs, looks up at his brother.

Rhett glances away, his siren eyes fixated on the entrance door. "No." He replies curtly.

Jason frowns, not fancying his aloof self. This guy was hard to talk to. He finds Jayden's gaze on him, looking at his little brother, he shrugs his shoulders.

"I am aware, her divine powers are great. We owe her our lives." A middle aged man says to his long time friend, resting next to him on the stairs.

"I know, it is a shame she could not change the tragic fate of her family." He sighs, lowering his head, recalling back a scene, which shook the entire countryside.

According to the countryfolks, Gracie Adams was their saviour. She's gifted with prophetic dreams.

Her husband and three of her children, were killed in a brutal house fire. Loved and respected by everyone, she's a family to all. It appears, she had a dream about the approaching doom.

Those who believed in her, prompt to the shelter of the country church.

The unfortunate people, failed at being informed, or refusal of the words of an old, withering lady would be flooded in clamour of bloodshed.

"My ma attempted to caution you. But the call would not go through." Jayden says, looking up at Rhett.

As Rhett glances his way, Jayden continues, "We were informed a little later. I went to your house, but it was locked." He tells him, shameful he didn't endeavour to find them further.

"It's fine," Rhett replies, avoiding reasoning more. Jayden nods in response, and an austere silence befalls the scene once more.

The countrypeople were not familiar with Neva or Rhett. The most Neva interacted were with the Barlowe family and Anna. The people would have heard about the couple who had moved in the cottage near the woods, but weren't acquainted with them.

They were curious about the man who had evaded a bullet, so close to death. They were still muddled on how he could possibly escape here being out—exposed to the catalysm, all the while, protecting his gravid pregnant wife.

"Are the people left outside all dead?" A low, weary voice asks. Everyone trails their gazes from the middle-aged man to Rhett.

Rhett deems him to be the gruff man from before. Mr. Fodor, he was the one, who labelled the Barlowe brothers as traitors. "I can't be sure." Rhett returns, and defeated sighs follows his words.

"Are you familiar with their temperament? What are they here for?" Rhett asks.

Mr. Fodor shakes his head, "It must be the exiled. Indolent and robbers, banished due to their unmerciful behaviour."

He swallows pensively. "They probably crowded among themselves, and are here for our land." Mr. Fodor reveals, deeply saddened at the tragedy of his home.

The folks, who were once dozing off, stirred, laments over the horrid turn of events. They were remorselessly helpless, wondering how the exiled could gain materials, and ashen their home with such violent weapons. "How can they do this to us? How could someone be this inhumane?!" Exclaims a young man, they were not even equipped with weapons to coordinate the battle.

"Those are just bunch of snakes! Attacking surreptitiously!" A tanned, built man, resembling to be in his thirties speaks out.

"Hell shall have a separate torment made just for them!!" The chubby man, Mr. Ronan, who had been held at gunpoint by Rhett exclaims aloud.

"How were the exiled armed with ammunitions?" Asks Jason, speaking out the ponders in their heads. His family were in the rush, while the assailants began their onslaught.

They could catch a glimpse of them, they were just bunch of moronic and barbarous robbers. How could they mug illegal war weapons and be trained this well?

"There are two different raiders, driving unrelated goals." Rhett declares. He garners bewildering gazes on him. "What have you seen?" Inquires Mr. Fodor.

"Those exiled wore normal clothes, they were qualified for battles in a haste. But the troop supervising around the church dressed different, and they were skilled." Rhett divulges, examining their stunned reactions.

Were they fighting against two enemies now? The country folks could not bear the slander.

"What? Did they find out about the shelter?" Mr. Fodor asks, apprehensive.

"Not likely." Rhett replies. "Have they joined forces?" Jayden asks.

"It's possible." Rhett returns. "What?! Have we not have had enough of disaster?!" Freaks out a youth.

"Do not fear, we shall be saved!" An elderly man says with determination.

"Is there something valuable in the church?" Asks Rhett, he's perceptive the two troupe of intruders had conceivably striked a bargain, it should not be a coincidence for them to oppress the countryside at the same day. It was a, well schemed invasion.

If the exiled were here for pure evil gain, robbing the countrypeople, what would the seemingly fancy gang members, supposedly from an underground organization achieve from a little land of farmers? Why were they strolling specifically around the church?

Was it even safe to stay in the shelter?

Mr. Fodor was deep into thoughts, but he couldn't discern anything of such high value.

"Perhaps there is a treasure buried deep under the church?" Jason chuckles, miserably failing to lighten up the moods. Instead, he secures glares from the elder men. Jayden shakes his head at his foolish brother.

If the church does hold a priceless treasure, the shelter wouldn't be safe as it should be anymore. The exiled could be even used as sacrificial foal by the gang.

He sighs, he just hopes for the tremor to end soon. It's a sensitive time for Neva, will they have to move away again?

He had always prepared to abandon the temporary home they had made here. Until this while, for a polished moment, everything had run unrough. He was almost convinced, they could lead little more months of peace here, it's sad how the world betrays the prayers.