The ship sliced through the air with a low hum, barely perceptible against the vast night sky. Our heroes rushed aboard, their footsteps echoing against the cold metal floor as they exchanged urgent glances. The mission was clear: reach the designated point without being detected. As they sped toward the secret facility, Aragon, the leader of the American division, kept his mind busy with restless thoughts. Inside the facility, the captured agents were being moved with haste and precision.
Upon disembarking from the ship, Aragon approached one of the individuals who greeted him with a firm order: "Take me to Doctor Laos." The man hesitated for a moment before responding, his voice tense but respectful: "Sir, we haven't heard from Doctor Laos in several days. Doctor Lucas Maos is now in charge." Aragon narrowed his eyes, his lips forming a tight line as he processed the information. So, Maos had taken over everything, he thought, his mind grinding like a rusty gear. I thought it was just my imagination, but what an intriguing character. "Very well," he said finally, his tone steady and controlled. "And what do you know about Leader Sir Larot?" The man shook his head, avoiding his gaze. "We don't know anything about him, sir. He hasn't been seen at the base." Aragon gave a brief nod, his mind already formulating a plan. "Good. Take these people away. I'll pay Doctor Maos a visit." Before anyone could respond, Aragon activated his device and vanished in a flash of violet light.
The leader of Radar America materialized first in Maos's old workspace, a place now desolate and covered in dust. The walls were bare, the equipment broken and scattered, as if abandoned in a hurry. Aragon walked among the remains, his worn brown armor creaking with each step. There was no trace of Sir Larot or anything useful. Everything had been dismantled, as if time itself had erased any evidence. Where is my friend? Aragon wondered, his jaw tightening. They must have moved him. He's probably in the new location where the experiments are being conducted.
As he moved through one of the dark hallways, a familiar presence caught his attention. He slowed down and looked up toward the upper floor. There, standing under the faint light of a flickering lamp, was Sir Larot. His friend wore an obsidian-black suit of armor so intense it seemed to absorb the surrounding light. A crimson-red visor glowed on his helmet, projecting an imposing and almost intimidating aura.
"Larot!" Aragon shouted, his voice echoing in the silence of the place. But his friend didn't respond, as if he hadn't heard him. With his heart racing, Aragon quickly climbed the stairs, thinking perhaps the distance had drowned out his voice.
When he reached Larot, he stopped and extended his hand with a forced smile.
"Larot, it's good to see you're alright, my friend!"
But before he could touch him, he sensed a swift and dangerous movement. Larot had begun unsheathing his sword. Aragon instinctively stepped back, his body tense as he watched the black blade now gleaming under the light.
"But… what's wrong with you, Larot?" he asked, his voice heavy with confusion and concern.
A deep, commanding voice emerged from the shadows behind Larot.
"Calm down."
Zeus stepped slowly out of the darkness, his tall and majestic figure casting a shadow that seemed to devour everything around him. Aragon straightened immediately, his confusion giving way to a mix of respect and surprise.
"Ah, it's you!" Aragon exclaimed, his tone more relaxed but still uncertain. "When did you return?"
Zeus looked at him with an inscrutable expression, his eyes glowing with an almost supernatural intensity.
"Aragon, I'm sorry you didn't notice my presence."
Aragon bowed his head, embarrassed.
"Lord Zeus, forgive me. I was distracted. But… what has happened to my student?"
Zeus crossed his arms over his chest, his posture radiating absolute authority.
"Nothing serious. He's as good as new, even better. His injuries from the last fight with that being called Urion were severe, but he's fully recovered now. However…" he paused meaningfully, "it seems he has forgotten some things."
Aragon frowned, his mind swirling with questions.
"How is that possible? I need to understand more, sir—"
Zeus interrupted with a voice so powerful it seemed to shake the very walls.
"That's what happened! My word is law, Aragon. Enough nonsense. Larot, shake hands with your master."
From within the obsidian armor, Larot's voice resonated, monotone but obedient:
"Yes, sir."
Aragon extended his hand again, this time cautiously. Larot shook it briefly, his touch cold and mechanical. The gesture was impersonal, almost empty, leaving Aragon with a knot in his stomach.
Damn it, he thought as he watched his pupil walk away. He lost his memory again, just like that time. What have they done to him?
His thoughts were interrupted when Zeus spoke again:
"Aragon, go see the head scientist, Lady, to fix your armor. Larot and I have important matters to attend to."
Though his mind brimmed with questions and suspicions, Aragon bowed his head in obedience. He knew he couldn't question Zeus; his word was law. However, as he walked away, his gaze darkened.
Something isn't right here, he thought. I can feel it.
Aragon continued walking, though his judgment was clouded, unable to focus his aura abilities clearly. As he made his way through the desolate hallways, vague memories began seeping into his mind—two in particular.
Here's the polished and translated version of your third fragment, carefully crafted to maintain the narrative's depth, emotion, and immersive atmosphere while adhering to your guidelines:
The first memory took him to a small, smoke-filled tavern alive with raucous laughter. There he was, sitting on a wobbly chair, a half-empty mug in his hand. His gaze was wild, desperate, as if he were looking for a fight in every corner. The alcohol couldn't dull the pain consuming him, a void that seemed to devour him from within. Then, the tavern door creaked open with a metallic groan. A man entered, his imposing figure casting long shadows over the grimy tables. The words he spoke were unexpected, almost surreal: a second chance, an invitation to join something greater. Aragon barely remembered the details, but he knew that moment had changed his life.
The second memory transported him to a training field. Zeus was there, his voice thundering through the air like rolling storms. Beside him stood a shy young boy, but with a spark of determination in his eyes. "This boy has potential," Zeus said, gesturing toward the youth. "Teach him the way of the Aura. Make him strong." Aragon recalled how he had nodded without hesitation, accepting the responsibility without doubt. That boy was Larot.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Aragon finally arrived where Lady awaited him. The head scientist greeted him with a professional smile, though her eyes betrayed concern.
"Take off your armor," she instructed, adjusting her lab glasses. "I'll fix it, but it'll take a couple of hours."
Aragon nodded silently and removed his worn brown armor, placing it on the workbench. He then retreated to a corner of the room, lost in thought. His gaze was distant, as if seeing something beyond the metallic walls surrounding him.
Meanwhile, the ship carrying Podbe and his team reached the location indicated by Laos. Tron, the robot, announced in his metallic voice:
"We've arrived."
Drake, ever pragmatic, ordered:
"Scan the area."
Tron obeyed, his sensors spinning rapidly as he analyzed the surroundings. Finally, he delivered his verdict:
"I detect a piece of land here."
Adia, the group's mage, crossed her arms and nodded.
"Good, that must be the place."
In his mind, Podbe still didn't sense Aiden's presence. It's deeper, he thought, while telepathically communicating with Reia. To avoid detection, Adrian, the leader of Unit D, equipped Tron with a special membrane that made the ship invisible to enemy radars.
The ship descended silently over an icy jungle, a surreal landscape of ice and swirling white mist. As they disembarked, everyone was outfitted with technology rendering them undetectable. Leila, impressed, murmured:
"Wow, that guy really knows his stuff."
"Can you scan anything, Tron?" Drake asked.
With his new upgrades, the robot began analyzing the area. Soon, he identified a hidden hatch beneath a layer of ice.
"It must be here," Tron indicated, using a laser and small magnetic suction cups to quietly pry open the hatch. He also placed inhibitors nearby to block any nearby cameras.
However, the entrance was too small for everyone to pass through. Drake frowned.
"This opening is too narrow. We can't get through."
"Don't worry, I'll handle it," Adia said calmly. With an elegant flick of her hand, she used her magic to shrink the entire group and then levitated them inside.
Leila, crossing her arms, protested:
"If she can do that, then why did I even come?"
"You, girl, are here to help us communicate between Podbe and us," Drake replied patiently. "You're much more than an interpreter; you've been invaluable."
Leila smiled shyly at her superior's encouraging words.
Inside the underground facility, they descended a frozen staircase for one or two floors. Suddenly, Podbe the dog began barking excitedly, breaking the tense silence.
"What's wrong, boy?" Leila asked, petting the animal.
At that moment, the mental connection between Podbe and Reia activated again. Through Leila's voice, both exclaimed:
"We're here! We've found Aiden!"