With that done, Evan swiftly gathered his gear, carefully placing the headgear and other tools back into his bag. He then made his way back to the village chief's cottage's door, ensuring that it was left exactly as it had been before. He scanned the area, mindful of any signs of potential late-night wanderers or unexpected patrols. Satisfied that the coast was clear, he moved on to the next target.
Each step of the process was repeated with precision and efficiency.
Each target was incapacitated, then a headgear was put over the guys, leaving Aurora to do the magic and then they left the cottage, restoring it to its original state.
Hours passed as the team worked methodically through the night, their mission continuing into the early hours of the morning. By the time the clock edged towards 2 AM, they were nearing completion. The goal was to vacate the area before 3 AM, knowing that the tribal people were known for their early rises.
The team regrouped at the designated blind zone, where the shadows of their figures moved stealthily in the dim light. Evan checked in with each member of his team, confirming the status of their assignments.
Soon, Suri and the team regrouped outside, their faces reflecting a mixture of determination and relief.
Suri broke the silence, her voice barely more than a whisper. "That was close. Are you alright?"
Evan exhaled slowly. "Yeah, we're fine. Just needed to avoid any more complications."
Evan then looked at his team with a serious expression.
"Everyone done?" Evan asked in a soft tone.
Most nodded affirmatively, but one operative lowered his head, clearly troubled. Evan turned to him with a questioning look and asked. "What's the issue?"
The operative spoke, his voice tinged with frustration. "Some targets were awake when I arrived. They were going through symbiosis. I couldn't complete the job."
"Ohh!" Everyone nodded giving an understanding look.
Evan's lips twitched, masking his displeasure. "Some old men and old women are still quite lively, huh?"
The operative nodded and continued, "Yes, and in one cottage, the old man was with a young woman—possibly his daughter-in-law."
Another team member interjected, "Are they still in the process?"
The murmurs grew louder as more people emerged, all echoing similar frantic messages.
"I had a dream," an elderly man shouted, trembling in fear. "The Lord appeared to me and said we must find the Saviour who came yesterday. He will bring change to our world."
The crowd's initial reaction was one of disbelief. Laughter erupted from some corners of the gathering. "It's just a dream! How can a dream dictate our actions?" one man scoffed whi9le shaking his head.
But as more and more villagers spoke of having the same dream, the laughter faded, replaced by bewildered silence. The atmosphere grew tense as the weight of the repeated visions began to sink in.
From the central area of the village, the Tribal Chief emerged, his presence commanding authority and drawing their attention.
His face was set in a grim expression as he raised his hands for silence. The crowd hushed, watching with a mix of anxiety and hope.
"Silence!" the Chief's voice rang out, firm and authoritative. "The dreams are not to be dismissed. I too have had the same vision. The Lord has given us a sign."
A murmur of surprise rippled through the crowd. The Chief continued, his tone steady and authoritative.
"This is a divine message. The Saviour who arrived yesterday is the key to our salvation. Disregarding this will not be tolerated. Anyone who refuses to heed this call will face punishment."
The villagers exchanged uneasy glances, their earlier skepticism replaced by a growing sense of dread. The implications of the Chief's announcement was clear: defiance would not be tolerated.
A young woman, her face tear-streaked, voiced the fear that many were feeling. "What if we don't want to go? What if this is just a trick?"
The Chief's gaze was stern. "It is not a matter of choice. The Lord has spoken through us. We must seek the blessing of the Saviour for the safety of our tribe."
Another villager, a middle-aged man with a furrowed brow, stepped forward, his voice trembling. "But what if the Savior is dangerous? How can we trust this dream?"
The Chief's response was resolute. "The dreams are a clear directive. We must follow them. It is our duty to seek out the Savior and show respect. Our safety depends on it."
Fear and uncertainty rippled through the gathered villagers. The realization that they had little choice but to comply with the Chief's orders settled heavily over them. The murmurs of dissent were quickly silenced by the overwhelming authority of the Chief's decree.
As the crowd began to disperse, the weight of their predicament hung heavy over them. The village prepared for what was to come, their actions marked by a mixture of apprehension and reluctant acceptance.