The storm raging over the narrow strait felt less like weather and more like a punishment. Sheets of freezing rain lashed against the reinforced glass of Watchtower number eight, the wind howling so violently it made the thick steel girders of the structure groan.

Inside the primary observation room, however, the atmosphere was considerably warmer.

Four men in the dark grey uniforms of the Coastal Defense Force sat around a circular metal table. A half-empty bottle of liquor sat in the center, acting as a makeshift paperweight for a scattered deck of playing cards.

"I’m telling you, the thunder god definitely caught his wife cheating," Miller laughed, tossing two chips into the center of the table. He took a swig from his glass, wincing as the alcohol burned his throat. "There hasn’t been a storm this bad since the winter four years ago."

"Or maybe the thunder god is just pissed he lost a hand of poker to you, Miller," Davis shot back, folding his cards and leaning back in his chair. "I swear you’re counting cards."

"It’s called skill, Davis. And you have a skill issue."

The other two men at the table chuckled, the harsh reality of their posting temporarily forgotten. Watchtower eight was the absolute most remote outpost on the Eastern continent of Tarita.

It sat on a jagged, miserable rock that jutted out into the narrowest part of the western strait, acting as the absolute last line of defense before the mainland. The soldiers stationed here affectionately dubbed it the "End of the World," mostly because there was absolutely nothing past it except open ocean and the occasional rogue current.

It was a boring, isolated post. Usually.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

The sudden, sharp chime of the automated radar system cut through the sound of the rain and the laughter.

The men paused.

"Alert," the automated system voice droned, perfectly flat. "Unknown vessel approaching from the West. Entering the primary strait."

Miller frowned, setting his cards face down on the metal table. "A ship? In this weather? The fucking authorities grounded all commercial traffic two days ago because of the swells."

"Probably a smuggler who didn’t check the forecast," Davis grumbled, standing up and walking over to the primary sensor console. He tapped a few keys, bringing up the thermal imaging cameras mounted on the exterior of the tower.

The screen flickered, cutting through the heavy rain and pitch-black night, projecting a grainy green-and-white feed of the churning water below.

"Well, I’ll be damned," Davis muttered, leaning closer to the screen. "It’s not a ship. It’s a lifesaver boat. A small one."

The other three men stood up and crowded around the monitor.

Sure enough, fighting against the massive, rolling waves was a small, motorized life raft. There were four heat signatures on board. Two of them were lying flat in the center of the small boat, thrashing weakly as if they were tied down or severely injured.

The other two figures were sitting upright, heavily hooded against the biting rain, manually steering the small craft toward the rocky base of the watchtower.

"Looks like a shipwreck," Davis said, scratching his jaw. "Probably a trawler went down a few miles out, and these four managed to get the raft loose. The two in the middle look like they’re in bad shape."

Miller sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. "Great. So we have to go out in the freezing rain to haul in half-dead sailors. I love this job."

"Don’t look at me," one of the other guards laughed, grabbing the empty bottle from the table. "How about we spin for it."

He set the bottle on its side and gave it a hard spin on the metal table. The glass clattered loudly, spinning in a rapid circle before slowing down and finally coming to a stop.

The neck of the bottle pointed directly between Miller and a younger guard named Kael.

"Damn it," Kael groaned, throwing his hands up. "I just got my boots dry!"

"Grab your coats, boys," Davis chuckled, sitting back down at the table and picking his cards up. "Don’t forget the medical kits. If they’re struggling, they probably swallowed half the ocean."

Miller and Kael grabbed their heavy, waterproof yellow slickers from the hooks by the door. They zipped them up tight, grabbed a pair of high-powered flashlights and a medical bag, and stepped into the small elevator that led down to the tower’s base dock.

The elevator descended with a quiet hum.

"You think they have any money on them?" Kael joked, leaning against the wall of the elevator. "I mean, if we’re saving their lives, a tip wouldn’t hurt."

"Just get the gate open," Miller grunted, pulling his collar up around his neck.

The elevator hit the bottom floor. The heavy steel doors slid open, revealing the small, enclosed concrete dock that opened directly into the churning waters of the strait. The sound of the storm was deafening down here, the waves crashing violently against the outer retaining wall.

The small life raft had just bumped against the concrete dock. The two hooded figures were standing up, grabbing the mooring rings.

"Hey!" Miller yelled over the roar of the wind, stepping out of the elevator and unhooking a life ring from the wall. "Secure the line! We’ve got medical kits for your crew!"

Miller and Kael walked quickly toward the edge of the dock, their flashlights cutting through the driving rain.

They were five feet away when the first hooded figure stepped up onto the concrete.

It reached up and pulled the heavy, soaked hood back.

Miller stopped dead in his tracks.

It wasn’t a human face. It was an elongated, reptilian snout covered in dark, jagged green scales. Two slit-like yellow eyes burned with absolute, predatory malice. A long, bifurcated tongue flicked out, tasting the rain, before the creature opened its jaws to reveal rows of razor-sharp, needle-like teeth.

"What the—" Kael gasped, his hand dropping toward the sidearm holstered at his waist.

He didn’t make it.

The beast moved with terrifying, blinding speed. It blurred forward, entirely bypassing the space between them.

SHLUCK.

Miller didn’t even have time to scream. The beast’s right hand, tipped with six-inch, scythe-like black nails, cleanly decapitated him. Miller’s head separated from his shoulders, spinning into the dark water, while his headless body collapsed heavily onto the wet concrete.

Kael managed to pull his gun halfway out of the holster before the beast’s other hand whipped around, the razor-sharp nails slicing effortlessly through Kael’s neck.

Two bodies hit the floor in a spray of bright crimson that was instantly washed away by the freezing rain.

The reptilian beast stood slowly, raising its blood-soaked hand to its face. It extended its long, forked tongue, slowly and deliberately licking the fresh blood off its jagged nails, a sickening grin stretching across its scaled face.

Behind it, the second hooded figure stepped off the boat, pulling its own hood back to reveal an identical, terrifying reptilian face.

They looked down at the small life raft.

The two figures struggling in the center of the boat weren’t shipwreck survivors. They were the two Coastal Defense guards from the outer perimeter buoy, their limbs violently broken, gagged and bleeding out in the bottom of the raft.

The first beast raised its hand and simply crushed the skull of the guard on the left. The second beast mirrored the motion, stepping on the head of the remaining guard, silencing his muffled screams forever.

The dock was quiet, save for the howling wind.

The two bipedal beasts looked up at the towering, steel structure of Watchtower, their yellow eyes glowing in the dark.

They looked at each other, their jaws parting in synchronized, blood-stained grins.

"For our Great Ruler’s return,"

Hello guys Author here - So 100 Chapters completed. Thanks for reading and supporting the story so far, heh, there is a double Golden ticket Event going on right now... so you can try try your hands out and reach a few milestones for golden tickets to get a Mass Release!!!