One by one about ten figures exited from one of the ruins of a factory building and moved towards the metal cylinder. They moved with a strange, unnatural purpose, their dark forms cutting through the tall, sun-bleached grass as they converged on the massive metal cylinder.

The cylinder itself was not small; it was a behemoth, easily twice the size of the factories that stood guard around it.

Sezel's eyes, pressed against the cold rubber of the scope, widened. Hidden even in the broad daylight.

He immediately shifted his aim, the rifle pivoting smoothly on its bipod. He centered the crosshairs on the broken gate of the second factory, choked with a thick, tangled mass of blackened, half-dead vines. As he watched, ten other figures emerged from the darkness within, their movements identical to the first group's. They, too, began their slow, inexorable march towards the metallic cylinder.

Sezel wanted to check the third factory building too, but unfortunately its face was hidden behind the cylinder.

He pulled back from the scope, the world blurring for a moment as his eyes readjusted to the unfiltered light. He sat back on his haunches.

"What did you see?" Shiki asked, his voice laced with a tense curiosity.

Sezel's gaze flickered to him, then to his other side. Vesta and Mari were both looking at him, awaiting his report.

"There is something down there," he replied, his voice deliberately calm. "I saw twenty dark figures moving from the factories towards the metallic cylinder."

"Twenty figures?" Shiki frowned, the number clearly unsettling him.

"Were they humans?" Vesta asked immediately, her voice sharp, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.

Sezel didn't reply instantly, he thought out his answer for a second before speaking, "Maybe," he finally said, his words carefully chosen. "Their forms were dark, and they were partially hidden by the tall wilderness. But the way they moved… it was almost robotic. As if they were all following the same set of commands."

"But beasts don't act together in batches like that," Shiki stated, his brow furrowed in thought. "Not unless they are of the Elite category, at least. And finding so many Elite beasts together in one place would be… almost impossible."

His statement was indeed true. Enhanced beasts working in groups could make sense, But for them to act with such coordinated, disciplined precision was not in the realm of possibility. And for twenty Elite beasts, creatures of immense power and intelligence, to be present in the same place at the same time was not just improbable; it was a catastrophe of unimaginable proportions. The only safe, logical assumption was that they were human.

"Even if they are Slayers," Sezel questioned, almost to himself, "twenty Slayers working together? In a single unit?"

A heavy, oppressive silence followed, broken only by the soft, rustling sigh of the wind. None of them spoke. Their gazes were fixed on the land beyond the walls.

Suddenly, Vesta spoke, her voice shattering the thin silence like a sheet of glass. "We will go there."

Sezel looked at her, his eyes wide with disbelief. "What?" he asked, bewildered.

"That is the ideal way to go," she explained, her piercing ruby eyes fixed on his, her expression leaving no room for argument. "We can't go back."

His gaze shifted to Shiki. But his confidence shattered the moment Shiki, after a brief pause, nodded in agreement with Vesta. "She's right," he said. "Staying here is foolishness. We move forward."

Sezel let out a depressed sigh, settling down. "Okay, so we go ahead." he said slowly.

Then an idea came to Sezel's mind. He immediately shot up, a flicker of excitement in his eyes. He summoned his puppet.

The dark and purple energy, the ethereal mist, seeped out from his body, wrapping and coiling around itself, forming bonds. Within seconds, the two-meter-tall Flesh Reaper, a spectral monstrosity of dark and purple energy, stood before them.

One of its Scythe was still gone and so Sezel was sure that it won't be healed on its own.

"What will you do with it?" Shiki asked, puzzled, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and fascination. Vesta, too, looked at him, her usual composure replaced by a look of profound confusion.

Sezel took a deep breath. "So, the thing is," he began, choosing his words carefully, "I can share my vision with this puppet right here. I can see what it sees, and I can give it commands with my mind."

Both Vesta and Shiki looked at him in awe, their eyes widening with a dawning understanding of the true potential of his Fable.

Shiki swallowed hard. "Your Fable is amazing," he said, his voice low. "A shame that it's only a Black Fable. It certainly doesn't feel like one."

"Well, it is what it is," Sezel replied, scratching the back of his head, a gesture of feigned nonchalance.

"So, to the main point," he continued, "I will send it to investigate the area beyond the walls. So that we can be prepared when we reach there."

It seemed like a good plan indeed. But Sezel was not sure how far he could send his puppets. Would the range even be enough to reach the factories and the large metallic cylinder? They seemed closer from the high vantage of the roof, but he estimated the actual distance to be around fifteen kilometers, maybe even more. But that didn't matter now. He had to try.

Sezel gave it the command, and the beast followed, jumping off the roof.

As a beast, even a spectral one, it landed with a preternatural grace, its fall broken by the tall, dry bushes below, the sun's rays were shining brightly here. The wilderness was so tall that it even dwarfed the two-meter-tall Flesh Reaper, the dry, golden stalks of the dead plants reaching almost two and a half meters into the air.

The beast moved forward, its form sliding silently through the thick, dry vegetation. Sezel's mind was now a split screen, one half still on the rooftop with his friends, the other seeing the world through the eyes of his puppet. It was a disorienting, dizzying sensation, like watching a VR movie while simultaneously being a part of it.

The puppet moved forward without any problem, its feet making no sound on the hard, dry ground. Sezel noticed, through the puppet's eyes, that the soil here was not soft, but had hardened to the consistency of rock, and was tinged with a faint, reddish hue.

Slowly and deliberately, the beast continued its trek, and soon reached one of the small, broken-down buildings that were littered around the vast expanse. It was a small, hut-like structure, barely standing, made of rough, sun-baked bricks that had been mated together with wet soil that had hardened over time. It was a miracle the building still stood at all.

Sezel instructed the puppet to look around, but disappointingly, he found nothing of interest. The only thing left to do was to check inside.

But as the beast was about to step through the crumbling, vine-choked doorway of the hut, something stirred nearby. A movement in the tall grass, a rustle of dry leaves that was not caused by the wind.

Sezel felt a chill coil down his spine.