2024 - Amazon Forest

The Amazon rainforest envelops the team as they trek deeper into its lush, verdant embrace, the humidity thickening the air around them. Ayaz walks alongside Ikaris, the vibrant sounds of nature swirling with their footsteps, while their fellow Eternals navigate the thick underbrush ahead.

“Ajak always talked about you every time I visited her. Guess, you're her favourite son after all,” Ayaz says, his voice light, teasing. “Guess you’re her favorite son after all.” He sidles up to Ikaris, maintaining a casual air despite the tension simmering within him. “Look, I'm not interested in this whole save the planet crisis. But if you think we should do this, I trust you. I will follow you to the end, like I always have.”

Ikaris halts abruptly, turning to face Ayaz with a furrowed brow. “What did you say?”

Ayaz shrugs, mimicking Ikaris’s serious tone. “I will follow you to the end, like I always have?” The words hang in the air, playful yet laced with an undercurrent of sincerity.

“I’m not who you think I am,” Ikaris replies, a glint of guilt flickering in his eyes. Ayaz catches it but chooses to ignore the sentiment, a part of him unwilling to delve deeper into the emotional terrain.

“Don’t be too shy to take a compliment, pote.” Ayaz nudges Ikaris’s elbow, a smirk spreading across his face as he falls back in step with the group. “Do you think Druig will help us? He’s full of himself and a real jerk.”

Ikaris chuckles softly, the tension easing for a moment. “That’s public knowledge.”

“I am just like the soldiers down there,” Ayaz declares dramatically, using air quotes and adopting a deep, mocking tone. “Pawns to their leaders. Blinded by loyalty. It ends now.” Laughter erupts from his fellow Eternals, a brief respite in the midst of their grim mission.

As they arrive at a serene but bustling compound, the sight of local farmers, woodworkers, fishermen, and children playing tugs at something deep within Ayaz. There’s a strange vibrancy to the place, yet the absence of Druig sends a shiver down his spine.

“Jeez, not creepy at all,” Ayaz mutters, glancing nervously at the locals. His heart races with excitement and apprehension, pounding like a war drum against his ribcage. “This is ridiculous. I have no idea why I agreed to this bullshit.”

“It’s very nice here, sir,” Karun remarks, lifting his camera to capture the beauty of the compound, his eyes sparkling with wonder.

“Don’t be fooled. Ignorance is bliss,” Kingo states, his tone almost foreboding, which earns a soft chuckle from Karun.

Sprite steps forward, determination radiating from her. She approaches a local man, her confidence unwavering. “Hey. We’re looking for Druig. Is he here?”

“Yes.” The man’s eyes dart between the team, confusion flickering in his gaze before he focuses back on Sprite. “How do you know Druig?”

“Well, that’s our cue to leave,” Ayaz whispers sarcastically to the others, his discomfort palpable.

“We’re friends…” Sprite fibs, a sly smile gracing her lips. “...from college.”

In an instant, the atmosphere shifts as the locals straighten, their eyes glowing gold like embers igniting. The man drops a bucket of fruits, his voice becoming eerily robotic. “Hello, Sprite.”

“Dramatic arse,” Ayaz mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes. He can feel Druig’s influence ripple through the air, a reminder of the mind control games they’ve walked into.

The double doors swing open, drawing the team’s attention. Druig emerges, a signature smirk plastered across his face, radiating a charisma that is both alluring and infuriating.

“I missed all of you.” Druig’s eyes scan the group, searching for familiarity, but his gaze lingers on Ayaz, who feels a flush creep up his neck as he tries to disappear into the shadows.

Druig is lithe and lean, his form outlined by the black robes and adorned tunic that hint at the strength hidden beneath. Ayaz can’t help but appreciate the sight—a fleeting moment of admiration that catches him off guard. How is he so infuriatingly attractive?

Their eyes lock, and for a heartbeat, the world around them fades. Druig’s smirk grows smug as he notices Ayaz’s gaze lingering a moment too long, causing Ayaz to widen his eyes and cough, looking away as embarrassment floods through him.

“Please, make yourselves at home,” Druig adds, his voice smooth, yet there’s a challenge lurking beneath the surface. Ayaz can feel the weight of the moment, the tension between them crackling like static electricity in the air. He shifts uncomfortably, finding his sneakers far more fascinating than the situation unfolding around him.

The dynamic between them hangs like a thread ready to snap, and Ayaz feels a mixture of exasperation and intrigue. Druig’s presence is magnetic, a force that pulls him in even as he fights against it.