The pale-furred female blinked, finding her gaze languidly pointed at a destroyed light fixture in the ceiling instead of the pristine, featureless grey of before. How strange it was to feel as if one was viewing the world through another's perspective, yet know it was their own. The disconnect wavered, a clouded sense of self crawling through her veins and giving back awareness a bit at a time. Instinct insisted that there was something amiss, but she was too preoccupied with puzzling out why a whirlwind of powdered glass came to mind when she tried to recall where she was. The attempt was abandoned, replaced by a sardonic curiosity regarding when she had become so far gone as to lose herself so thoroughly. The expanse, the voices, the blank patches in her memory… Even now, the shattered housing of extinguished illumination stared back at her, yet nothing came to bear when she questioned why it had been damaged or by whom. Was it herself? Did the cracks in her sanity finally turn her towards wanton vandalism instead of staying true to her objective? Or was it a stray shot, the enemy—

The enemy. Where were the enemies firing towards her trapped kin? Why couldn’t she hear gunshots? What happened?

The answer came in stages, starting with cognizance expanding to her physical form. Only then did she truly notice how much had changed.

Sunundra’s eyes were wide, dry, and stinging. Her limbs felt pushed past their limits, then made to push further still. Heavy breaths heaved oxygen through deep gulps, fuelling the ongoing struggle to stay upright. Each exhalation forced out jets of the smoke lingering in her lungs, disturbing the listing haze that permeated throughout the air. An unpleasant note of singed flesh and spilt gore tainted every inhale. A muted sting of burns, cuts, and bruises was ever-present, but she figured a few new lacerations were hardly worth consideration—discerning them from the rest was a futile endeavour. Overall, she wasn't in much worse shape than she remembered, though why she was so exerted was unknown. It made the blackout all the more curious.

Until she finally noticed the weight pulling down on her curled arm like she was holding out a sack of rocks.

Slowly, she eased the jitter that shook her paws and unclenched her fist, dropping the mangled cadaver in her grasp without knowing what it once was, nor why it had been clutched so vindictively. But…the sensation of her claws piercing its organs haunted her…

Her thoughts worked backwards, piecing events together with only still frames of information at her disposal, each new fragment adding to the macabre implications.

She could still feel the alien's flesh tearing over and over, skin parting to make way for the brutal strikes ripping through its pathetic defences in a feral frenzy. Its blood soaked her fur, joining that of many more, her natural grey and yellow colour almost entirely lost to the orange, reds, and other indistinct hues. Pleas for mercy repeated in her ears, the cries for help abandoned when it was clear that its brethren lived no longer. Fear had sunk into its posture as she leaped towards it, the blurred reflection of a deranged beast in its terrified gaze. No matter how she twisted the memory, the beast was her, donning a visage that she never thought possible. It was an expression of malice and cold rage mixed with righteous vigour, her claws swinging out to viciously execute the sinful creature doomed to be slain by her paw.

Yet there was an addictive thrill etched into that wrathful reflection. That…thing wearing her likeness wasn’t merely enraged; it was hunting, and nothing brought more ecstasy than watching its prey struggle, the light fading from its eyes with every brutal attack.

More flickers of sharp instants came back to her, uncaring of if she wished to see them, another assaulting her before she could recoil from the last.

Flecks of crimson fell through the air like gentle snow as she kicked off one target to lunge at another, letting the explosive she embedded into its throat finish the job, a spray of vermilion mist trailing after her. Panicked screams were cut short, swallowed by her bone-chilling roar of vengeance.

An inferno consumed a group of eight, the licks of flame hardly dissipating before she had dove into the fray, using the obscuring fireball to dispatch whoever drew near enough to touch. She danced amongst the embers and blazing foes, delighting in the sound their sizzling skin produced. Carapace-coated limbs were torn off and used as bludgeons, dull thwacks ended in crumpled skulls.

Gunshots rang clearly, those of great fortune getting grappled and used as living shields to take the retaliatory salvos from their kin, dying before she had the chance to teach them what became of those who dared impede her rampage. Her pistol clicked, empty, yet her twisted fury only deformed into a grin of disturbing glee, the excuse to remain at a distance dissolved. Most suffered, though the sheer volume of foes necessitated that their pitiful wails of pain be silenced quickly. Those who resisted were the unfortunate…

Sunundra’s stomach rolled when the last memory was but a pervasive sensation instead of a snapshot. She tasted the deaths of an unlucky few staining her teeth, the texture of flesh ripping… Of chunks being torn free from their necks… It was still so vivid, the phantom crunch of cartilage or the crackling snap of exoskeleton reverberating in her jaw.

Her eyes fell to her trembling, blood-sodden paws, shuddering as the vile, abhorrent feeling of ichor on her tongue tainted the reverie of her bond's sweetness. Her very core rejected the act, yet a sense of vindication existed as well. Regardless of how, why, or what she was at the time…she had relished every drop that slid down her throat—the elation of a fresh kill stoking a fire most primal, and the feeling of rightness that shouted how justified her massacre was.

She was almost afraid to blink again, wary of opening her eyes to find herself further and further removed from what she had spent a lifetime becoming, and terrified of that shattered being lurking beneath. No matter how determined she was to do whatever it took to fulfill her bond's final wish, nothing could prepare her for that—for what she was apparently a hair’s breadth from becoming once more. Was that her sacrifice? Is that what it was to be a tool, following only the order of her broken soul? Was that what it deemed holy?

No matter how horrible the memories were, her thoughts were centred around the bites into pliant flesh, her teeth tearing at her foe and staining the purity of the otherwise honoured and intimate experience of a mark. What level of savagery was required to abandon that? How many times did she quietly fantasize about another declaring her as theirs or applying her own?

But…that never quite applied to her, did it? She was defective at birth; there was no mark for her to give, no matter how hard or how lovingly she tried to make someone hers. None would ever distinguish her mate amongst a crowd, and the single male her instinct had urged her to attempt it with was no more. In fact, even if it was possible for her to announce to the world who she wished by her side, the one who had met her bite failed to survive. Now, that once idle fantasy was tainted, replaced by a memory of ichor pouring into her maw with rapture, then swallowed like red, blessed water by the parched.

This is what she was reduced to. This is what became of the rejection, hatred, and manipulation others forced upon her. Both enemy and kin had sullied her, ripping a pitiful soul to shreds and leaving her as mere hollowed meat in the form of a female—a beast stripped of compassion and mercy by never being providing it in the first place. Then, they let that beast loose…

If they could freely do that to her…

…then why should she feel ashamed for letting them become victims of what they had created?

She shook her head, hastily banishing the hints of madness that would fester into more if they fed on her attention. Those were not her feelings, nor what she wanted. She was more than unerring slaughter made manifest. She needed to be herself for just a bit longer. For him. For the defending kin that required her guidance.

A deep breath distanced herself from the memories. There would be time to process what happened later. For now, she should find out where she was, then find those in need of her. If nothing else, she was aware. That was a start.

A momentary inspection confirmed she stood in the middle of the corridor, though how far she had travelled from the junction wasn't quite clear. The grey walls had been scarred by gouges and scorched black wherever sickening vermilion splatters allowed. Bodies of the fallen lay scattered and limp, some more intact than others, and most she couldn't recall engaging.

But the wounds… The addictive allure of blood dripping down her claws… The taste…

Bile won the fight against gravity.

- - - - -

Her backpack felt lighter than before, its straps missing the explosives previously affixed to them. The lessened burden made picking herself up off the ground easier, though didn't make the sting of torn muscles any less unpleasant. A cough wrenched her sore, acid-burned throat, the raw tissue protesting further abuse. At least the disgusting flavour of oxidized iron had diminished somewhat. Her legs shook and dizziness rendered her unsteady, but there wasn’t time to rest. One look at the corridor-turned-warzone was enough to discourage any optimistic thoughts; reinforcements would be rushing here, and without her, the others were trapped on this level.

She dug out replacement charges for the straps of her bag, grimacing at how little material she had to fabricate more and accepting that any further detonations were reserved for progressing the escape. It was with a reluctant limp that she opted to follow the trail of destruction to find the offshoot passage, ignoring the puddle of red she had left behind. The ground was purposely pushed from her notice; she didn’t want to recall how the corpses came to be.

Thankfully, the distance she had to walk was blissfully short, the waves of nausea only setting her off balance twice until she reached the end of the site of the initial standoff. The wide, sturdy door had been slammed shut at some point, countless impacts from projectiles warping the frame. Her paw knocked on the pockmarked metal, yet only the softest of frantic whispers could be heard on the other side, a repetition providing the same results.

“I am an ally,” she called, suppressing a cough. “Please, open the door. The enemy has been dispatched, but more will come. I have the means to escape, but we must act quickly.”

She was about to knock again, a part of her analyzing the material and her remaining chemicals, when the barrier popped open, the lightest push causing the thick metal to sway inwards. The dark interior offered little until she took the time for her eyes to adjust—time that they didn’t have. She was in a hurry to gather her kin while the enemy was absent, so she decided to let her sight catch up while she confirmed how many were hidden within the room, pressing down the deluge of pheromones from worried humans.

She took a step inside, a paw placed against the walls and whatever else she could use to keep her orientation as she strained to pick out the subtlest details within the blackness. She wasn’t alone—she could hear faint heartbeats hammering in sheltering chests and shuddered breaths stifled by silencing paws. The scent of blood muddled with that of the corridors, but she could still pick out the chaotic mixture of emotions off the humans sequestered amongst the dark, yet it was numbed from the overwhelming barrage it once was. A blessing, or perhaps a worrying curse.

“There is little time,” Sunundra reiterated, her throat scratchy and sore. “We must—”

A flicker of a paw lashed out from the corner of her vision too quickly for her to react, her mind screeching to a halt.

She only just barely got her paws up in time to block the blow to her head, but it did nothing to dispel the inertia behind it. Her legs failed, unable to take the abrupt shift in weight, her forearms adding fresh ichor drawn by rending claws. She hadn’t the chance to catch herself; a second blur caught her in the stomach, the ripp—

It didn’t matter. She was fine. They were scared and confronted by an unknown. She needed only weather the first—

Another glint of light reflected off fresh crimson as a piercing paw shot towards her, the darkness of the environment obscuring the owner of the limb. Force. Weightlessness. A grip on her neck—claws clutching—

She was fine.

Her back slammed into something solid with a bang of sheet metal deforming. The impact rattled her senses, the grip around her throat constricting her airway. Her legs dangled fractions from the ground, her spine bending awkwardly as her bag failed to compress more than it already had, whatever she was pressed against proving similarly unyielding. It was all she could do to hold the arm of her attacker to keep the strain off her neck, but her arms couldn’t hold it forever. Tremors in her shoulder warned of the imminent failure of something damaged beyond its limits, the muscles torn—

It did not matter.

A barked command caused the doorway she had entered to close, featureless forms moving to reestablish the barrier. She choked for air, her lungs slowly matching the phantom set that remained of—

She would succeed.

Lights snapped on, blinding her until the cool metal of a firearm dug into the flesh of her forehead. A silhouette leaned closer, snarling its threats and keeping her pinned against a server rack. She was trapped. Helple—

She would fulfill his want.

…Yet the chill in her blood surged, the familiar beckoning of the Void replaced by the scrape of glass.

“Your bloodlust ends here,” the deeper voice growled out. Its claw pulled the trigger at an agonizing pace, relishing in every decimal of travel. Her eyes snapped elsewhere in the room, yet still she only saw bipedal forms devoid of detail as the edges of her vision darkened.

Her cry for help came as a choked squeak. Still, they remained by the walls.

Why were they just watching? She was here to save them!

The minute report of a firing mechanism creaked into her ears. She tried to beg for assistance from whoever would lend their aid, yet again, they merely stood there, eyes fixated on the execution of their salvation. Shadows of hatred rested on the indistinct faces of her kin, but worry marred the visage of others. Humans. They were held back by protective arms and defensive forms of their fur-covered others, confused and fearful. None seemed inclined to help her. None sought to stop this.

They didn’t care if she died here and now.

Why? She had come to guide them! She had let herself erode away, overlooking the merciless thing that slaughtered the enemy because it was in service of her cause. Why were they not helping her? Why would they not let her fulfill her bond’s wish? It was all she had left! Why were they letting it be taken away!?

…Taken…

Stolen…

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Ah. They sought to steal the last of what she had…

Her arms fell limply, remaining motionless as her form was suspended by a darkening male that wanted her to perish before she could achieve her goal. Why? She was close, was she not? Was she truly so deplorable that her kin would rather her be shamefully disposed of? Was appeasing one’s last light only acceptable if they were normal?

Was Bill’s desire so little? Is this how she failed, slain by those she was sent to retrieve?

The weapon dug into her skull even harder, a victorious smirk donning on the muzzle of a dark-furred Lilhun, the vignette of unconsciousness soon to be replaced by the permanence of demise. “You will not hurt her.”

Hurt her?

“Syrus!” The male flinched at the enraged shout, a furless paw grabbing him by the arm in a futile effort to pull the gun away from the defect. An alien, feminine voice seethed with ire. “What the fuck do think you’re doing!?”

He turned his head to snarl at the shorter newcomer. “Killing our enemies!”

“Isn’t she one of you!? Look at her! She’s beat to hell!”

The dark one growled, loosening his hold on Sunundra. She felt the cold draw of oxygen slip down into her lungs, dispelling some of the blackness creeping in on her vision, yet instead of relief, she felt fury.

Rage that bubbled, unimpeded by a cork to suppress it. Anger that sought to punish those who stood in her way. Wrath that begged to break and burn.

…And for the first time in her life, she didn't try to push it down or smother it, pretending that it didn’t exist. No, she let it pump fire through her nervous system, wrenching it into place when it tried to consume her. She made it obey her, just as it should.

Just as they should.

Suddenly, the fire inside cooled, becoming a compacted explosive ready to detonate at her mere whim. Parts of herself felt more complete than they ever would have before, the absence of her bond only highlighting the jagged edges, yet now her sharpened fragments waited to be turned against others, instead of gouging her like a demented spike trap of suffering.

She couldn’t hope that someone would save her, nor hope that they would listen and follow her instructions. There was no more hope.

Only dominance.

Her assailant adjusted his grip on the bulky, mismatched firearm aimed at her head—an illegally modified unit, based on the crude cooling cell bolted to the barrel. Improvised, but functional. “She is a threat.”

“She hasn’t done anything!”

The male—Syrus, apparently—lowered his voice in a poor attempt to mask his irritation. “Jean, I act for your safety, as well as everyone else here. You are ignorant of the danger, and I do not resent you for it, but this one promises death to each and every one of us. The female will stop at nothing until she bathes in blood and rests upon a bed of entrails. You need only see the gore splattered on her coat for proof that she has already done so. Move, so I can remove her before she has the chance to do it again.”

Jean pulled at his arm, shoring up her comparatively meagre stance. “No, Sy. I will not ‘move’ so that you can shoot someone in cold blood. We’re not blowing the brains out of people without a reason. We need to find the exit, not kill everyone else who managed to break out!”

“Of course there is a—”

But Sunundra stopped listening, their voices drowned out by the scraping, scratching, and howling storm waging war in her core like the ticking of a timer counting down.

They were lost and scared, devoid of guidance and lashing out. They were going to bicker and flail until death crawled its way upon them. They required order. She required obedience.

Her paw raised, grabbing the gun with a steeled calm. The male froze in his speech to look at her, a threat dancing on his tongue.

Pitiful.

She ripped downwards on the firearm, uncaring of the flash near her shoulder as she wrenched the weapon from the male’s grasp and landed on her feet, his hold on her neck released. Both him and the human female jumped back a step, startled and not expecting the discharge, nor for the defect to ignore the blooming crimson stain. The male moved to protect his other, but was quickly winded by a kick to the stomach, sending him to his knees. When he looked up, it was only to stare into the barrel of his own weapon, his gaze tracing the bloodstained limb up to Sunundra’s cold, imperious glower.

“Silence,” she commanded quietly, eyeing the others along the fringes of the room. Twenty or so Lilhuns bristled, yet refused to leave the side of a roughly equal number of humans. The alien’s expressions ranged from hostile to terrified, but a few were watching the events with a cautious, calculating gaze, their furred companions slightly less tense than the others. Regardless of how on edge they were, none of them were equipped with a weapon of their own, so her request was reluctantly heeded.

Except for her current hostage shouting suddenly.

“Jean, don’t!”

The first human female stepped forward with placatingly raised arms against Syrus’s wishes, the worry in her false smile betraying her unease, the scent of concern oozing off her like thick perfume. “H-hey there. It’s okay. I’m sorry we started things on the wrong foot. I understand that you’re upset, and I’d be pretty pissed off if someone shoved a barrel in my face too. Why don’t we all take a step back, put the gun away, and then we can take a second to calm down and start over.”

“If you harm her, it will be the end of you and any who carry your blood,” the dark-furred male snarled, pressing himself against the firearm.

Jean shot him a violent glare. “Shut the fuck up, Sy. You are in no position to be threatening her.”

“And you should not be bargaining with one who wishes for your end!”

“Because you jumped her!”

Sunundra released a measured exhalation, wondering if switching targets would stop the needless bickering. Her prior assailant took notice.

“I-it is blood you thirst for, no?” the male queried, keeping his attention fixed on the pale-furred female, a desperation growing in his tone when the human refused to back down. “Surely, combat would be more satisfying than a simple execution.”

He made to stand, a lazy kick to his chest forcing him to sprawl onto his back. Her foot pressed against his sternum, the gun levelling at his skull from above. Jean yelped in surprise, but a glance from the defect earned her cooperation.

“I came bearing the intent to lead you to freedom,” Sunundra informed the male flatly. “I stated such intent upon entry, yet I was struck by those I wished to guide. Why?”

Syrus swallowed, glancing at his human counterpart. “Your smell of bloodlust and rage precedes you. I need not be a savant to know you came to deliver death.”

“And yet you spill nonsense instead of brain matter,” she countered with a mockingly curious hum, her lilt cooling further at the reminder of what the Union had done to her. She crouched to let her gaze burrow into his, her voice slipping into a malicious tone that felt foreign on her tongue, yet came just as easily. “What was it you said? ‘She will not rest until she bathes in blood?’ I see your eyes fail you as much as your intelligence. I have bathed in blood—the blood of those who trapped you here. Listen for the silence their lifeless forms allow. Smell the charred remains I left to litter the halls. Look at me. Look. At. Me. Look at this weapon and say with confidence that you are worth the mercy of that which you fear. That she is worth that mercy.”

The barrel flicked towards Jean’s direction, earning another terrified squeak and the male’s frantic visage distorting as he tried to think of a way to save his human. The defect could almost watch the gears turning in his head.

“Your bond?” she ventured, the sickening pit in her stomach joining the dulled sting of the open wound. Syrus’s muzzle opened, a conflict of decisions keeping words at bay. His nonverbal confirmation was enough to stoke her disgust. Of course there were more; she could see it in the posture of every Lilhun, their attention solely focused on maintaining their version of that which was ripped from her soul. How many were in the facility? Were they collecting them? “Interesting.”

“L-look, miss. He’s sorry he attacked you. Can we start over? No hard feelings? I-I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. Y-you can keep the gun!” Jean pleaded, shying away from the barrel pointed at her. Sunundra ignored her, only paying enough attention to keep the aim on the new target true.

“Syrus, was it?”

The male nodded, looking to the others for assistance. Like with her, they were too fearful to risk losing their humans, and thus welcomed that which would ensure they do. Pathetic. Did they not hear the whispers? Did their blood not boil at the very thought of something threatening to take their bond? Did the Void clawing at their souls not giggle with glee, eager to remove that threat?

Would they not do anything to make the fear stop?

“Do you know why I am here? Not my reason for coming to this location, but what gave me such a purpose?” Syrus swallowed, shaking his head. “Because I learned what it was to love another who experienced love so wholly. I learned what it was to bond to a human—much like the one you have.”

“Then why—” The trigger of the gun audibly groaned, stifling his inane query. Finally, an intelligent reaction. She forced a smirk to show her approval, overriding the grimace of pain from her shoulder. The weight of the gun felt like it was doubling by the moment.

“They took him from me. He passed in my arms while I could do nothing about it. Yet, despite their attempts, I was given but one thing—a wish, and a want to see that wish fulfilled, brash one. I come with a map, explosives, and his heartfelt desire to see as many of you safe as possible. I hold the means and knowledge to guide you to your escape, yet when I announce myself as such, I find not joy, but violence meeting my politeness. Unfortunately, the methods to achieve that goal are at my discretion. Let it be known that I do not appreciate such a ‘warm’ welcome.”

She stood, keeping the weapon trained on the human female and gesturing to the rest of the pitifully lost observers.

“And you. You stand aside, waiting for my end, ignorant to what awaits you should my lifeless form crumple before your feet. Death, ignorant ones. Death is what awaits you. Be it by enemy…” Her gaze turned back to the dark-furred male who had propped himself up on his elbows, caution keeping him from risking his bond’s life. “…or the countless charges I have scattered throughout the facility. There is no escape without me, foolish ones. There is no alternative. The elevators have been torn asunder, security is aware of your location, and you have scorned she who has come to offer a pitying paw. You all have a simple choice to make, though very little time to make it. Perish…or follow my command, see to that your bonds are safe, and that the sinful Union is brought to its knees by the Mother’s faithful.”

A few expressions of indignation flared, held at bay by her unholstering the pistol on her hip and keeping it but a twitch from acquiring a new target—an empty threat from a depleted firearm, but they didn’t know that. Sunundra bolstered her posture, broadcasting her confidence and hiding the shake of her abused legs. A flicker of thought suggested that they would rebel despite the disadvantage, taking away everything she suffered for. A vicious growl coloured the quiet speech slipping through her blood-stained teeth.

“Make no mistake, low ones; you will adhere to my command. If not, I will render you but a writhing mass to be carried by those of more sense, your limbs but sources of agony. And so, your true choice rests with if you will stand stiff before your better. Either you will resign yourself to being a burden placed upon your wiser kin, or you. Will. Obey!”

Silence choked the atmosphere, her shouted words almost echoing. A sob ended the stalemate.

“P-please don’t hurt him,” Jean begged, tears eventually succumbing to gravity. “H-he was just worried. It won’t happen again, I promise. Please… I know he’s an idiot sometimes, but he’s… I’ll do whatever you say, just… I…I don’t want to lose him.”

The pale-furred female met the terrified, remorseful gaze aimed at her, the human’s trembling attempt to keep her arms up faltering. A breath scented love and fear, and Sunundra couldn’t suppress the still fresh memory of petitioning the Goddess to let her keep her own bond for just a moment more. How could she? It was staring back at her with rounded pupils and flushed cheeks stained by terror and sorrow. Except…the alien female wasn’t asking for mercy from the divine, but instead a lowly, broken soul trying to ignore what she had done and forcing others to lend her their ear. Some part of her felt satisfied that she had managed to make a room full of hostile kin wary and unsure, but the part that clutched the glowing mote amongst the Void was…mournful. This wasn’t the kindness Bill found so appealing…

“My task is to take those trapped here back to where it is safe,” Sunundra whispered, lowering her weapons before tossing the functional one onto Syrus’ chest, the second returning to its holster. Jean rushed to his side, smothering him in an embrace that prevented him from doing anything besides accepting it. The defect’s regard shifted back to the cautious audience, the ire gone from her tone.

“Follow me, and I will do all in my power to ensure we lose no more. I will open the way, and our armament will be torn off the corpses we create. Bow your head and open your ears, for my words are untainted by deception. The Union has shown our kin that the gift exists beyond just our kind, waiting in parts unknown to be found and cherished, the Mother’s blessing is no less valuable with them than with ourselves. You here have been given that gift; you know I speak true.

“Think not that my rage rests with you, but in the heretical actions taken against us. Think not that it is futile, for only then is it truly so. Think not that this is the first time they have soiled the Mother’s blessing, for I am far from the first to be broken…”

She lowered her eyes and turned towards the exit, directing her speech to the others while sparing a glance at the only human who had tried to find a peaceful resolution. “Choose now. Take your kin—your bonds—to where we might protect them, or prove yourself unworthy of what you have been given. There are more still trapped; I will free them. When I return, you will bend the knee, or it will be bent for you.”

Her foot broached the line between room and offshoot, lingering there as she reconsidered what she was doing. It hardly mattered; either they would do as she asked, or they would struggle by themselves. There were others to save. She decided to voice one last warning before leaving.

“If your foolishness ends with you being trapped by yet more security, I will take that as your determination to remain, and I will not risk your wiser compatriots to correct that decision.

“…Do not fail as I have.”

No one responded, letting her traverse into the wider main corridor unaccompanied, her thoughts being the only ambience as she absently kicked a charred plate of armour near its deceased owner, the distance between her and her second attempt at saving another growing.

Were it her amongst the sheltering, would she have followed? Whole, unmarred by her efforts, and desperate to avoid the security that assaulted for reasons unknown? Then, suddenly, the violence beyond the defences she relied on ceases, and one who oozes threat, coated in the blood of the enemy, comes bearing words of salvation…

Would she do as that male had done? Would she seek to purge the newcomer?

She didn’t know. If it was now, then of course, but without having lost him—without the fractured thing prepared to turn a faithful into an unholy monster…?

Sunundra observed the larger passage and the carnage left behind by a beast resting unchained within her. If it were now, and he was still here, then she would have eliminated the threat without pause. She had already done so, and that had bought them precious little time. The fact that she remained standing instead of a corpse amongst the sheltering filled her with as much disdain as it did melancholy. They were too scared of losing their precious gift to protect it. They were too wary to see what actions must be taken. They were lost, yet did not wish her to guide them.

No. She was always rejected for being deplorable, only now she had acknowledged that she needed not their acceptance, but their compliance. They would stand in her way unless she was to make them pave the path themselves. The path to saving them now, and the path to honouring his wish later. She steeled her resolve, hoping Bill would understand her methods. Kindness was a tactic she had tried all her life, and one that had yet to see success.

They no longer deserved her kindness.

“H-hold up!”

Her ear twitched back at Jean’s voice some distance away, the human stumbling to a standstill as she was exposed to the splattered walls and dismembered cadavers. Wide, horrified eyes slowly made their way to the cause of destruction, the defect watching her with a neutral expression.

“You…?” Jean squeaked, pointing a claw at their surroundings while covering her mouth with a paw, the colour drained from her face. Sunundra nodded tersely. “Y-you said you know how to get out of here, right?”

The pale-furred female fetched the navigational terminal from her pocket, loading the map for the current level and displaying it as proof. “I do.”

The human cycled a breath, chewing her lip in uncertainty. “L-look, I’m sorry for what Syrus—”

“—No,” Sunundra interrupted, a subtle snarl conveying her annoyance. “His sin was not pulling the trigger the moment he had the opportunity. He acted against a perceived threat, yet hesitated. Were I not what I claimed, then he would only be the first to perish.”

“B-but you said…”

Her expression hardened. “That his actions would doom you all? Yes, it would have, but he would have defended you from the danger you faced, if nothing else. He would enter the Mother’s Hunt as a pitied soul, his ultimate end being the result of his vile kin sabotaging his efforts to save that which he cherished most.”

The defect looked at her blood-stained paws, not a trace of her original grey showing through the filth. The texture of her bond’s skin remained on her pads, dwelling beneath the sticky layer of revenge and injury. How much longer until that was overwritten as well? “He would not need to experience death, yet still walk amongst the living—a corpse in all but name. He would be a fool either way, but taking action is better than simply watching as the others did.”

“You’re wrong.”

Sunundra looked back at Jane’s cold cadence, the alien female’s bitter disapproval on display. A furless claw jabbed back towards the offshoot.

“He had no right to do that. You saved us from those Union fucks and told us that you were there to help. He was the one to overreact.” The indignation in her tone petered out. “It’s my fault that I didn’t step in sooner. I’m sorry… I…I understand if not, but could you wait a second? I, uh, might have gone off on them. I-it’s no excuse, but they were frozen stiff because Macie… Her partner got… She was alone with us…”

Jane wet her lips with a dry tongue and avoidant gaze. “They shot at us and Macie… Well, it was quick, I guess. It’s just…seeing one of us drop like that didn’t exactly lighten the mood.”

A human was…killed? How did she not… Where is the… Was the scent covered by everything else, or was that what caused…

“Can we go with you? N-no one will try anything else, I promise. I’ll even help with the bullet wound! We just… We just want to leave, and it sounds like we’re shit out of luck otherwise.”

The defect shook off the unease, seeing and smelling the fragile veneer of hope covering the blackest depths lingering underneath the alien’s visage—the hesitant faith placed in another when every single option of their own had been stripped away. She turned sharply, referencing the map to orient herself.

“There are others who have yet to be informed,” Sunundra called over her shoulder. “They remained trapped within their den-like cages. I expect all of you to assist in freeing them. There are weapons amongst the deceased; take what you can equip—armour as well, if any fits. We have not the affordance of being picky.”

Footsteps were the only sound for a few moments, her pads meeting the slick and charred floor as she walked away. Eventually, there was a gasp of disbelieving indecision, then shouting and hasty threats aimed at complaints and protests. Heavy strides came soon after, grumbled curses and frantic skids of armament being looted from the dead came filling the air as others hurried to gather items and reign in volatile tempers. She didn’t miss the gagging, nor the sharp reprisals being hissed out by Jean whenever someone reiterated their compunctions with the arrangement, but the group followed, no matter how begrudging or wary.

A dark-furred male strode up to her side, refusing to meet her flat, side-eyed gaze.

“I offer my apologies for my aggression,” Syrus grounded out between bitterly clenched teeth. “This one will serve as long as it remains beneficial to his bond, and not a moment more.”

Sunundra glanced back to see a worried Jean attempting to keep a respectful distance while also reassuring a few humans who seemed to be mourning their losses, shooting reproachful glares at the male every so often. “Obey and receive, Syrus.”

He offered a shallow nod and slowed his pace, falling back in line with the group. “Understood, high one.”

She almost felt accomplished until the bright illumination instead bathed the corridors in dulled red and the klaxons of alarms bellowed out.

The Union was done pretending they had the situation under control.