(Quintiles 22, 59 / 8:27PM)

(Luke, Miles, Jack, and Stan)

(Jack) I guess things are getting a lot worse huh…

(Miles) You just had to say it, do you?

(Stan) Come on Luke, pull yourself into the van now!

(Luke) I’m trying!

Footsteps ricocheted the entire top end of the roof above them, their ears hearing the metal denting with each step the person or creature was taking. As if the person or creature was made of iron, the roof above them creaked loudly as Jack's eyes continued to be glued to the black asphalt.

For Miles though, he had no choice, as he extended his right hand towards the right of him, placing his sweaty right hand onto a metal handle.

(Jack) Wait, Miles!? What are you doing—

The passenger side door of the van swung wide open, the air around Miles being contorted as his entire body flinched towards the direction of the asphalt. As if it wanted to pull him forward, Miles maintained his core strength as his stomach and chest tightened, having his left foot pushing under the glove compartment for stability.

His face felt the night air pushing against his face, Miles placed his left hand onto his holster on his left hip, followed by his right hand holding the handle of the door. Still, in a sitting position in the van, Miles turned his attention towards Jack, his chest being filled with sweat.

(Miles) I’m going in, Jack! Make sure you drive carefully!

(Jack) Wait, Miles! You have to think this through!

Putting his right foot onto the edge of the van, Miles steadied himself as he moved his body onto the van door. With caution, he put his entire body on the doorframe of the van, his body now hugging the frame.

Still being pelted by the raging winds, Miles looked up, but to no avail, his eyes couldn’t spot anything. A bead of sweat rolled down from his right temple, he pushed his body up as much as it could go, ignoring the dangers of the road as he tried to squint through the heavy darkness around him.

(Miles’s thoughts) Just where is Harold—

A hand gripply held onto the top of his head, the fingernails of the person or creature clawing itself at his scalp.

(???) Did you forget about me?

(Miles) Ryan!

The hand that started to grip the helm of his head tightly was none other than Ryan, his black-eyed eyelids and pupils continuing to remain on Miles’s pale face. Gulping loudly as he was within Ryan’s mercy, Ryan pulled Miles in front of him, his feet steady on top of the van as the air then blew their hair.

With the night-heavy breeze that brushed against their bodies, Ryan put his left hand onto his chin, pushing his head back as he let out a sly smile.

(Ryan) Come on now, we were good buds before The Array right? Even though you were a little hesitant because of my status as beast-human.

Miles’s body continued to dangle in the air as the only saving grace that awaited him was the rapid asphalt on the bottom of him. Kicking his legs, but his arms remained in motion onto his hips, Miles clenched his eyes shut as he turned his head away from Ryan’s face.

Ryan pulled Miles closer to his mouth, his putrid breath continuing to molest his eyes and nose, causing Miles’s nostrils to flare and his body to do a gag reflex.

(Ryan) But despite all we went through, you left us to die in that arena? All of you fake soldiers wanting glory yet eliminating the weak and unfortunate.

Ryan’s hand that gripped Miles’s head started to tighten, with his fingertips clenching onto Miles’s scalp even more. Blood started to pour as the nails dug themselves into the skull.

As some of the blood rolled down Miles's left cheek, his eyes shut as the pain of Ryan’s stabbing nails was enough for him to move his legs more.

(Ryan) Well, guess who's poor and unfortunate now?! Who huh?! Tell me, who!?

(Miles) We didn’t sacrifice you, we were all trying to—

(Ryan) Blah blah blah, blah blah blah, blah blah-blah-blah blah blah blah blah. I’ve heard better conspiracy theories with less shit than that sorry excuse!

(Jack’s thoughts) That rhythm of the blahs… is that from Dog of Flanders?

His right arm containing Miles, Ryan looked down onto the fast asphalt that was the only way for Miles to land. With a devilish smirk crawling upon his ghostly pale face, Ryan widened his eyes as he put his left hand motionless to his thigh.

Miles looked down onto the asphalt road, his forehead forming droplets of sweat as he gulped. His body shook with a shiver running down his spine. He swayed his head as the lich boy tilted his head to the right, moving his shoulders up while doing so.

(Ryan) Sorry pal, but I guess this is what they would call…

Ryan then let his fingertips loose, Miles’s scalp feeling a sense of relief.

But his entire body wasn’t.

(Ryan) The end of the line…

A gunshot was heard coming from the back of the van.

Miles soon dropped down from the air.

A smooth hand reached towards him, grabbing Mile’s hand tightly as his boots started to scrape off from the highway pavement. Looking upwards, he noticed a familiar figure on the side of the van, the man’s freckled and brownish ginger-haired face giving Miles a good inhale in and exhale out.

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(Miles) Oh shit man, that was close.

(Stan) No worries … grunts … quick, pull my arm to get to the side of the van!

(Ryan) How’d you get to the side? I never saw that handlebar before. Did they improve or upgrade the van to have sidebars? Gee, I wish I could’ve seen that.

Ignoring the two sturdy men on the side of the van, Ryan focused his attention on the young man with light brown hair and red eyes, his eyes sharpening.

The man in front of him already extended his right arm and hand towards him, his gun pointed at him with smoke coming out of the barrel. Despite his stance making Ryan take a step back, the man’s eyes were slightly wide, his breathing rapid as his hand continued to desperately shake.

(Ryan) Luke, Luke, Luke. It’s a shame. I mean, are you going to kill your old friend for this huh? Out of all of us, you have the most ethical morals, right? Where’s that young boy you once were?

(Luke) You’re the one that shouldn’t be telling me about morals!

(Ryan) Oh really?

Ryan slowly walked towards Luke, his footsteps continuing to dent the top of the van, causing Luke to notice the slight loss of stability. Still having his gun motioned towards Ryan, Luke’s arm started to quiver as Ryan put himself in front of the barrel of the Uzi.

Putting his hands onto the sides of his gun, Ryan motioned it towards the lower area of his heart, the barrel of it pointing right at his most vulnerable spot. Luke, his hand shaking even more, started to feel the numbness of his legs take full effect, his breathing turning more and more rigid.

(Ryan) Come on, you can shoot that nice and easy. It’s quite simple really, I’m the bad guy and you’re the good guy, that’s all that is to this scenario.

(Luke’s thoughts) What is going on? Why am I holding back!?

Luke’s eyes began to widen as his arm, hand, and finger remained still and motionless to the way Ryan had a hold of his gun. Ryan let out a small chuckle as his breath reached towards Luke’s face.

Luke arched his head back as the putrid breath smacked against his face, his nostrils being molested by the smell of rotten eggs and manure.

(Ryan) You’re not going to do anything huh? I guess in terms of character, you’re too good of a guy. You don’t want to kill me, but…

Ryan then threw his left hand back, his left arm being stretched into the distance as he focused his eyes on the youthful face. Having both of his feet steady onto the van, the metal began to dent evermore, since the soles of his heels dug themselves deeper to create a presence of stability.

(Ryan) In terms of my character, I’m way beyond in need of salvation.

He then started to thrust it towards the face of Luke, the air around the edges of his stretched left arm working battling against friction. With his left fist barreling its way towards Luke’s face, Luke shut his eyes from the incoming fist, his face shivering from the dreaded upcoming impact, but…

A loud gunshot can be heard from behind.

(Miles) Unfortunately for you, I’m not that good of a guy.

Turning his head towards the dark-toned man, Ryan continued to keep the barrel onto his left chest, clutching the metal with his fingernails cracking the insides of the chamber. With the air blowing into his pale face, Ryan sharpened his eyes as his legs started to quiver in an unstable manner.

(Ryan) Do you have to shoot me from the back?!

Wielding his sawed-off shotgun with his right hand, Miles already had his arm extended and his finger on the trigger, smoke coming out of the gun’s barrel. His left hand holstered the grip of his other sawed-off shotgun, Miles’s ears perked up as Ryan shook his vocals with intensity.

(Ryan) Can’t you just jump off a bridge or something!? I’m in the middle of a killing here!

(Miles) I’m afraid I can’t do that.

(Ryan) Ok, tough guy! Bring it!

The shell that was lodged inside of Ryan, the area where the shell was dead in the center, sprouted outwards back to its original direction. Seeing the shell coming towards him, Miles lunged his left leg and foot back as his stomach and chest tightened, his hand holstering his sawed-off shotgun into his right hip.

As he managed to place both of his arms right in front of him, Miles’s forearms soon began to convulse, his muscles stretching out as he sharpened his eyes toward Ryan.

(Miles) Not today!

A bluish shield appeared in front of Miles, the bluish particles that emitted from his hands created a wall that was as hard as diamonds. With the bullets that were heading in the direction of Miles hitting the shield, the metal crumbled into powder as blue sparks lit up upon impact.

(Miles’s thoughts) Guess I have to go into offense.

Still having his blue shield on standby, Miles pulled back his left arm. Because of the absence of his left hand, the shield was dropped down by half.

The small shield on Miles’s right hand started to form two sharp ridges on the top of the shield, making the shield turn into a weapon for stabbing. The shield slid onto his right wrist, as if he was homing the shield with his right hand.

(Mile’s thoughts) Now I’m ready.

His legs thrusting himself off the metal material, Miles focused his eyes towards Ryan, having his right arm kept into his body as he laid his left arm motionless. Seeing that Ryan wasn’t flinching, despite having his body wide open, Miles managed to close in the distance between them, thrusting his tucked right arm as the rigid shield homed in on its prey.

In return, Ryan extended his left hand back, stretching it so that it would bring in a surge of inertia upon his hand. Feeling the air around his hand and arm trickle down his pale skin, Ryan pushed his left hand with an abundance of strength, his left arm contracting as his fist barreled its way toward Miles’s face.

But something caught his hand.

(Ryan) Oh, you little cheater!

(Luke) It’s called thinking strategically!

Both his guns being holstered on his hips, Luke used both his hands to catch and grip the lich, his fingertips digging themselves deep into Ryan’s rubbery skin. His fingernails caused Ryan’s arm to bleed out tar, Ryan ground his teeth together as he turned his face towards Luke, his eyes turning tarshot.

(Ryan) You better let go right—

Ryan’s head was delivered an expendable punch, the sharp spikes on the top of the rigid shield clutching themselves deep into Ryan’s right cheek.

His head almost turning 180, Ryan’s body was pushed back as the force of the shield punch was enough to knock him off of his feet. With holes of tar dripping out from his right cheek, Ryan’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, causing him to collapse on the edge of the roof of the van.

And his left arm and hand, that was being held by Luke, was let go as it fastened itself towards the lich.

With a sly smile dawning upon his face, Luke focused himself on the rolled back-eyed lich, his eyes not faltering for one second as Ryan’s fist barreled its way onto himself.

The hand landed on the same area that the sharp shield hit and the lich’s face started to push away as his head and body began to be sent flying. A shockwave traveled his entire body from head to toe, the pressure and intensity of it caused his body to falter under the weight of his body.

Since his body was on the edge of the van, the final push caused him to fall quickly onto the incoming asphalt, the weight of his body keeping his body down as it homed into the pavement.

(Ryan’s thoughts) Those cheaters!

His body made contact on the black paved highway at a rapid speed, his entire chest hitting the ground first as the fast-paced movement that he was already in.

Started to scrap away his pale skin, brutally gliding through the highway with his entire body sliding off the ground.

Seeing the horrible sight with both of their eyes, Luke and Miles looked away, their faces starting to darken.

Both of them turned their heads towards one another, giving each other a nervous nod as their feet loosened the grip on the top of the van.

(Luke) Did we … have to do that…?

(Miles) It’s for the best Luke…

(Jack) Hey Fenix! Luke! I think something’s coming your way!

(???) My turn!

Another lich popped out from the driver's side of the van, its white pigmented body barreling towards Luke and Miles as its eyes honed not at Miles, but at…

(Luke) Oh no!

Luke’s body was thrusted back more than he calculated. His eyes widened at the sudden pushback by only himself, his body was leaning itself right at the edge of the van.

The lich had his right arm extended, pulling it back normally as his right fist was enclosed in a tight grip. Unable to defend himself as one wrong push would send him flying out of the roof, Luke only watched as the fist edged itself closer and closer towards Luke’s nose.

(Luke’s thoughts) What can I do?!

(Harold) Time for payback, you bastard!

The knuckles of his fists started to come into contact with Luke’s face, the frail bones of his fist starting to push the fat and skin of Luke’s nose as the vibration was felt throughout his entire face. First managing to encapsulate his entire nose, a large cracking sound was heard as a major jolt of pain launched up inside of Luke.

This caused Luke to be fully pushed back, as his feet were completely loosened from the ground.

His body was sent backward onto the black asphalt below. His face was changed as his nose started to flow a river of blood, his right and left cheeks bruised. The pain of the punch sent shockwaves throughout his entire body, he quickly put his hands to his cheeks as his fingertips clenched his cheeks.

But below him, was the black asphalt highway, with the back of his head being the first to land.

Luke’s eyes focused upwards as he saw two figures looking down at him from the top of the van. His breath caught in his throat, his breathing coming to a standstill, and his mind blocking out the surging pain from his shattered nose, Luke’s eyes began to water as the last sight that he saw was…