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The sound of machines whires around them. Echoing in the otherwise silent elevator ride.
“Never thought it'll come to this, huh?” Chris’ voice cuts the silence. Iman took a minute to reply. “Yeah…” she breaths. The air tasted stale and dry, as if it too has already decided that its too late to try. “I thought we would…” she stops, leaving chris to the whiring of the machines again. His plasma keris at his sides and her hook floating near hers. He took in the image of the girl that have held his heart since their academy days and now, they are approching a mass scale war together. Ejen Leon’s words rang in his ears again.
“And lastly, we cant ensure any of your returns” he had concluded their brief about this war. Some had been shocked, suprised by the bluntness of it while some, -to chris’ suprise, even Iman- had seem to be expecting this conclusion. So while -17 year old- Moon’s tears dry on her sleeves, Iman only gives her pats-on-the-back to soften her sobs, not even bothering to lie and say that she will come back no matter what. That day, chris looked extra closely at Iman. At the ripples on her yellow hijab, the swush and sash of her hook piercing through air, the brown of her iris, the flow of her suit and even the softness of her breathing, All to savor incase its his last time seeing her.
Now this might actually be the last, last time. But chris doesnt want that, so he suck in a breath, forcing air into his tight lungs -it had been like this since the brief- and warms up his voice box with a cough. “Iman” he calls to her, he tries to make it smooth but both of them know this isn't how it's supposed to be. She looks up to him, slowly, as if she had already had her last, last look at him, But she kept her cool despite the shine in her eyes -this too, had been like this since the brief- she sighs a shaky breath, her composure cracking by the second she spends in the elevator. But she locks eyes with Chris and she can't help but feel relieved thst they are in this together. "Don't. We'll be fine." her voice cracks "We are all strong and we will be back okay. You will come back to me." Chrst had long toke notes at how her speech pattern changes when she’s nervous or when she’s speaking to people she’s comfortable with or with him and Iman will never lie. So he ignore the constant thumping in his chest and pretends that they are regular people, making regular promises.
“Okay” a grin place itself in between his lips -the grin he would wear for her and her only, jet calls it cheezy though- “Deal. We both come back alive and in one piece too. Back to base” He held his keris out inbetween them. And the whiring of the machine stops, or maybe thats just his imagination. “Back to mika. And moon and jet and everyone” She clicks her hook with his keris like it's second nature and for a moment there, chris hoped he could freeze this moment and live in it forever. The smoothness of her yellow hijab, the whiring of her hook as it floats with his keris, the glint of tears constantly in her eyes, the enchanted armor on her suit, and even the shaky breath she lets out everytime the dam thats holding the tears back threatens to break. At that moment, just then every sense on his body only felt her, even if they haven't even felt each other’s skin.
“Ejen Chris get ready to be placed” the speaker spoke too soon. Their eyes held each other’s, Iman drinking the clear blue iris of Chris’ and Chris drowning in the golden brown of hers. The pod’s door opens, exposing them to the dryness of the war arena MATA had composed to avoid having the war had contact to civilians. Civilians like they once were. “It's like being in training again” Iman whispers and Chris can't help but agree. All this feel like a mission the mentors would come up with for the young ejens. Except its not. And injuries here might not actually be cool or prove of hard work but as a sign of weakness and inability to fight unscathed. But thats imposibble and Chris had already made clear of that since academy.
“I guess this is goodbye?” Chris look back at Iman as he steps back into the arena. She shakes her head. “See you later” she waves at him. He nods, raising his hand to do the same before the pod closes back, and dives into the ground where it came from to bring Iman to her ground but not to her squad. Kombats are placed differently from other teras. They are placed in grounds specificly targeted to be attacked the worse and where most of the enemies are lured to. This is to ensure the battle can be overpowered easily by the other teras as they attack the main base. The bad news is though… Kombats faces the biggest risk of falling in battle.
Chris takes a deep breath, still facing the empty space where the pod used to be. He steadies the racing of his heart before turning around. Chris analyses his surroundings. He took in the sight of the “Medan” and the dry air hovering around him. He notes of the gritty sand under his boots and the lack of places to took cover as dust settles on his suit and into his hair. In the far, he can hear clancking of metals and shouts -chris reminded himself of their Kombats brief before, general said they might be facing 300 clones or more-. “I'm so dead” Chris exhales as he runs his hand through his hair.