“Skinwalker!?” Specter snarled. “That's rich, coming from the filthy plague race itself.”
“What do you mean?” Ronin asked, stalling for time.
“What do I mean!?” Specter screamed in incredulity, his voice now sounding more like a man’s than that of Elsa. “The galaxy was filled with life and diversity before you came along! Countless species coexisted in harmony. We, the Safeer, were highly respected ambassadors, famous for our ability to communicate. Everywhere our race travelled, we were welcomed.”
Ronin felt some of his strength returning, but he needed more time.
“Wait, —” Ronin said back in wry amusement, “you literally have to devour the species you wish to turn into. So, if I am getting this right, you ate other sentient life, then turned around claiming you were ambassadors to the very same race you were eating? Those are the acts of a predator, not an ambassador.”
“That is the cycle of life, but you… humans.” Specter spat, showing clear disgust at the mention of humanity. “You killed everything. You left nothing behind in your endless need for expansion. All that life. All that potential. Wiped out, gone forever, never to see the light of day again. No, there is only one species in this galaxy that deserves damnation, and it is not mine — filth!”
To Ronin's horror, Specter's wound began healing and within that wound, he saw golden flickers of light.
That was the alien artifact’s energy.
Ronin had not been the only one stalling for time it seemed. Specter had taken a part of what made him, him. And the strength he'd gained from the alien artifact, was also a part of that. The very same thing that had made him strong, was now about to be turned against him.
“I knew I was right about you.” Specter said as he began moving. “There truly was something special inside of you. Now... GIVE IT TO ME!”
Specter launched forward in a sprint, and Ronin rose up, narrowly moving out of the way as Specter attempted to grab him. Slamming into the other end of the room, the alien turned, then immediately rushed for him again.
What followed was a wild melee where one party, repeatedly tried grabbing the other, whereas the other party, continually did its best to dodge. Not being able to make any prolonged contact with the alien, Ronin was forced into only using strikes, throwing in the odd kick or punch when he saw the chance.
Whatever damage he did manage to inflict on the alien though, was swiftly healed soon after. More so than healing, Specter was becoming faster.
“It is inevitable,” Specter chuckled in between another failed charge. “Now that I’ve already had a taste, it's only a matter of time before I manage to catch you.”
Ronin spared a quick glance towards Scrabby. Fortunately, the child was still breathing, but this couldn’t continue. Sooner or later, something was bound to happen. Either he’d get caught, or Scrabby would end up dead.
Ronin flashed Specter a wide smirk. “I called the authorities the moment I realized what you were. Time is the one thing you do not have… skinwalker.”
Specter spread his arms wide and charged him, but it was different this time. There was a sense of urgency to his charge — a desperation. The dynamics of the battle changed after that. Ronin had to struggle harder and harder not to get caught, but eventually, the inevitable happened.
One of the alien’s wild charges — hit.
BOOM!
Miscalculating his speed, Specter hit Ronin so fast he was knocked back before Specter could grab him. But the direction Ronin moved was not into some random wall. Instead, what Ronin flew towards, was a peculiar looking flame patterned suit, standing open and ready for entry along the wall. The Heromaker.
Ronin had been hit on purpose.
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“No!” Specter shouted, but it was too late.
As the suit closed in around Ronin, he made some light movements, feeling out the suit. “Yes, this should do just nicely,” he said slowly, the sounds of twirling gears and working servos accompanying his words. Boosters emerged along the Heromaker's legs as he spoke through the faceguard, his voice now tinged with metal:
“My turn.”
The thumps of metal striking floor rang out as Ronin stormed the Alien, grabbing him in an iron grip as they crashed into the wall, then broke through the wall, plunging into another apartment. As concrete and plastic blew out around them, Ronin stabilized himself, then continued charging, blowing through yet another wall, exiting the building itself.
With no new room to brace them, they began falling down from the 3rd floor. “You’ll pay for this! You have an uncle, right? Nagata, was it?” Specter screamed as they closed in on the street below.
The duo slammed into the ground and the impact from the fall separated them. Specter, now with a crushed leg, caved in chest and a partially split skull, rose up and ran. The alien's physique clearly operated on a very different set of rules compared to humans. Those were mortal wounds — to a man that is. But a skinwalker?
With the aid of his armor, Ronin picked himself up, readying himself for the hunt. He felt beaten and battered, strained in ways he hadn’t thought possible, but the Ghost Butcher was far too dangerous to let go.
He even threatened my family… Ronin inwardly grumbled.
As Specter picked up speed, the boosters along Ronin's legs activated and he chased after.
“…”
The pursuit continued throughout the district. Specter, whilst fleeing, did what a skinwalker did best, repeatedly attacking and draining anyone he came upon. By the time Ronin caught up, Specter was halfway up a building, holding a man by the neck in one arm, and climbing the wall with the other.
Ronin activated the jetpack as every single booster along his suit began firing. He jumped, flying up to meet the climbing alien.
“What! It can fly?!” Specter shouted as Ronin crashed into him, knee first, knocking him off the side of the building.
Grabbing Specter's two arms, Ronin placed him under him as the two plunged towards the ground. He then utilized his suit’s boosters, angling their fall more horizontally. As a result, this time when the two landed, Specter ended up sliding across several tens of meters of rough concrete — but it didn’t end there. Ronin, whilst wearing 160 kilograms worth of heavy power armor, had ridden Specter like a board as they slid, pressing him harder into the ground. By the time they came to a stop, there was a long strip of blood behind them, and large sections of Specter's body had been shaved off.
“#$@&%*!”
Despite missing large parts of his face, Specter still acted lively as he attempted to speak. Ronin couldn’t understand a word of it, but at this point, words were meaningless.
Ronin had won.
He stepped on the skinwalkers back, then with both hands, grasped its legs as he pulled as hard as the suit would allow.
The alien screamed as it began tearing apart. Blood and guts began flowing out as tendons snapped and bones sundered.
FLOMP!
The legs and torso separated, but Specter was still alive. From the two separated body parts, Ronin could still see its microscopic tubes reaching out for him, attempting to suck out his essence.
Placing one part of the alien upon another, he bundled the two sections together as he embraced them with both hands, squeezing with all he had.
CRUNCH!
All movement stilled, and the tubes fell limp. Specter, the infamous Ghost Butcher, after everything he’d done, was dead.
Ronin felt some of his vigor return as the energy he’d lost to Specter earlier travelled back. Exiting dying flesh, it passed through the suit's armor before returning to the artifact.
Unbeknownst to Ronin however, something else followed along as well. Circling the edge of the artifact, there was now a tint of black intermixed, tainting the normally clear gold.
“...”
Allowing himself a few moments of rest, he stood silently above the dead Specter. Blood slowly dripped off his power armor, adding to the growing pool beneath him. Ronin looked up at the sky. It seemed more red today somehow...
The booming alarm characteristic to the planetary guard began entering the district, and Ronin knew he couldn't stay long if he was to see Scrabby. Before the guard could arrive, he moved back to the Tulsi family apartment. Too exhausted to walk himself, he let his armor do most of the work. Entering the ruined and broken room, he tiredly sat down on the sofa, sinking deeply into the cushions.
Scrabby was still breathing, fortunately. But Elsa? At least he’d brought Specter outside, saving one of them.
Ronin continued sitting there, not moving, just staring into the air.
Today had been a rough day. He’d made himself a promise back on Exodon. To protect two people. Now, one of the two he’d promised to protect were gone — because of him.
Tilting his head back towards the ceiling, he sighed:
“Shit.”