An hour or so earlier…

"No," Lucy said, her arms folded.

"Come on, Lucy, we talked about this like two days ago!"

"Fighting a Witch is one matter, Chosen. Delving headfirst into an open battlefield with little cover is another!" Lucy said. She shook her head and puffed out her chest. The sparkles in her irises shone with determined, brilliance radiance, full of fervor to protect her charge. "Remember what I said about ties and posts? I refuse to let you step amid that horde with that level of augs and proficiencies! They'll shoot you dead before you know it."

He, Lucy and Saria had left the Ram's Roach and entered the town square. Andrey had given a solid nod and a firm handshake at his agreement, which Adam supposed was the older man's version of jumping with joy. The rest of the town had mixed reactions, especially towards the two girls whom they could not understand, but Andrey made the convincing point of we need every gun and pair of hands we can get.

Preparations were now underway. The town militia busied themselves with performing last-minute maintenance and restocking of their firearms, while a support team was whipped up out of just about the remaining townsfolk, save the children. A couple pulled up a blockade made from scrap wood while a young man next to them dropped a bag of medicinal tools.

"Remember, this is the Gasheads we're dealing with!" Jona shouted out orders to the rest. "Setup those antidotes, and prepare the dirt clumps and water tanks in case they fire. Don't put out oil fires with water, either!"

Adam, Lucy, and Saria had already checked their equipment. Now, they were having a discussion about their roles in the battle.

"Christ, let me finish first. I'm not charging into there." Adam reached into his bag and pulled out Penny's old Astraean stealth cloak. "I tried this out in the MOB. It covers me, barely. While you and Saria tear up the place, I'll hide with this and take down any stragglers, including the wraiths born from corpses. Simple as."

"Chosen, that still means you're gonna be out of our sight." Saria said.

"Yeah, that can't be helped."

Lucy opened her mouth in protest, only for Miriam to interfere.

"Leaving Adam idle is a waste of a resource." Miriam said. "And If we're talking about discussions back in the MOB, you did agree to have more faith in him, Klavdia. I get your concerns, but he is good enough with a rifle. Certainly better than the bandits, I'd wager. They'll be too distracted with our War Maidens to focus on him."

"Thanks, Miriam."

"Adam, I will only agree with you on the condition that you equip yourself with the necessary augs for this battle. Spend all the Biometric Keys you have on your self-protection and stealth. Leave none behind."

"Hey, don't worry about that. I've already picked them out. Listen…"

Neither Lucy nor Saria were happy at this decision, but agreed with their classic ADO professionalism in the end. He sat down, thinking over his role, playing out the movements of his new mystics and his old fighting styles in his head. It wasn't time to go out yet. Miriam had a few more checks to make.

His blood boiled. It always did at the promise of the fight. This was actually the biggest one he'd be in, and with lethal weapons to boot. There was the familiar nervousness, threatening to escalate into terror at the thought of bloody wounds and blown-off limbs. The corpse of his first kill had dug its hole in his mind's space and settled there. He'd never forget it as long as he lived. But it was manageable now. It wasn't a matter of how, it was a matter of when.

Excitement followed suit. Fights were more than a means of eliminating an obstacle. They demonstrated a man's superiority over another. What better way of doing that than murking a group of people no-one would miss and taking all the experience for himself?

He noticed some of the townsfolk staring. Envy, and awe too at the amount of star-tech on display. Compared to their hand-me-down ballistics, his sleek and shiny kit must have come from a thousand years in the future.

"Ah, it's you!"

A shrill cry came from further down the road. It was a small girl in a thin brown dress, with red hair that curled all over the place like overgrown weeds. Her pigtails swayed as she ran up to the War Maiden.

"Pretty lights lady! You're back!" The girl said, beaming at Lucy. Lucy smiled back, unsure.

"Sarah, no!" Her mother ran up to her daughter and pulled her back. "Don't bother the outsiders. They're busy."

"No! I wanna see! And I told you the pretty lights lady was real, so there!" The little named Sarah squealed in her mother's grasp. She pointed at Lucy's rifle. "Look ma, they have their star-guns! They're gonna fight for us, aren't they?"

"Yes, yes, they are. They'll beat all the bad guys, I'm sure." The mother looked up. "We shouldn't distract them. Come on, we have to go to the shelter!"

"Aw, c'mon ma! Can't I watch them do their thing?"

"It ain't safe, kid." Adam spoke up. "Go and hide. Best for both of us. We won't lose, so don't worry."

"Promise?" Sarah said.

"Yeah, sure."

Sarah walked up to him and extended her pinky. Adam stared. "Uh…"

"Pinky promise! Old Nan Jona said that how to make promises. So, you have to win!" She gave him a cheeky smile. Adam looked back and forth between the two War Maidens. Saria giggled and gave him a playful knock on the shoulder. He groaned, tried not to roll his eyes and crouched down and exchanged pinkies with the little girl.

"Okay! Bye, bye, pretty lights lady! Bye-bye, friend!" The girl said, waving at Adam too. "We believe in you!"

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

----------------------------------------

In the present…

How did a fighter deal with multiple enemies at once? Simple: they didn't.

But if push came to shove? Then, the smarter fighters struck first, without hesitation, without mercy, and crushed the weakest link in the surrounding group with a single blow.

[Perception Acceleration] slowed down time. Adam peeked out from behind the tree and watched the frozen, horrified expressions of the Gasheads behind their cloth masks and facial paint. Lucy and Saria dashed forward and circled behind them, dropping clumps of light and fire. The aug wore off. Time resumed, and the screams grew louder as a man dropped into fire, a woman was speared in the neck and the two War Maidens dashed elsewhere, vanishing from their victims' sight.

He felt no sympathy for them. The Gasheads were cut from the same cloth as him. Bullies. Tormentors. Complete bastards who revelled in dominance over others while clinging together in packs like hyenas. Mob mentality was their strength to overpower their foes and keep everyone else in line. He and the War Maidens were outnumbered one to ten. It'd be suicide if they charged right in.

So, they didn't. They flipped the dynamic. Pulled the rug, so to speak. No-one was staying calm when the body parts of their allies rained down upon them. The power dynamic was flipped, the seeds of discord were sown, and this group was fragmenting by the second. Adam choked down his nausea as leaned out and aimed again. There it was—the lingering problem only existent in this world. Red pooled out of a fresh corpse, the wraith rising to its feet in a shaky gait. Newly-added augmentations steadied his aim, and a quick burst of [Perception Acceleration] ensured he hit dead on.

Experience (Combat) acknowledged: +5%.

More targets awaited. He dashed from his position, re-aimed and fired.

"Miriam, How it's going?" Adam asked.

"The townsfolk are defending their two sides well. Seems like those primitive explosives are doing their job!" Miriam said. "How about you? You've got ten minutes at most to wrap it up."

"That kid needn't have worried." Adam grunted as he activated [War Maidens' Bond] for Lucy. "I'd be surprised if there was anything left for those hicks to kill…"

The restraint Lucy had showed in his training session was nowhere to be seen. Lucy sprayed her [Photon-Blast]s and [Photon-Spears] in all directions. Saria conjured gouts of flame that spread across the dry grass like oil and water, sending his victims into a panic before her shotgun blasted them in the chest. They switched up their methods, attacking at long-range at one moment and then engaging in melee and snapping necks with the next.

The bandits retaliated, of course. They sprayed their firearms wildly, attempting to find a gap in the War Maidens' agility. But fear had gripped them tight. They misfired, dropped their weapons and Adam even saw one hit his own teammate in panic. Profanity echoed beneath the shimmering shrieks of Lucy's light and the crackling of Saria's flames. The Gasheads' plans had never counted on an ambush this effective, never mind from two girls almost half their age.

It was Déjà vu. Or at least a second-hand version of it. This was how Penny's old crew must've acted when facing off against the Blast Witch.

As for him? He was running support. The Astraean stealth cloak was a miracle piece of technology, concealing the majority of his physical appearance with only a slight fizzling effect in the air. It wouldn't work against any Astraeans due to [Physio-Sixth Sense], such as the case of Penny, but it was good enough for this battle.

He had also purchased four new augmentations for the big battle.

[Stealth Steps]: Muffles the sound produced by the feet and legs. User must consciously engage with this augmentation for maximum effect. Type: Feet, Audio

[Perception Acceleration 2]: Extends the duration at which the user's perception is enhanced.

[Damage Absorption Enhancer]: Improves the means by which the chest, shoulders and head absorbs damage, hence reducing its impact. Type: Skin, Muscle, Bone

[Wireless Hacking]: Allows [Hacking] to trigger and occurs from a small distance instead of via physical contact. Type: Brain, Neural

That last one cost 4 keys instead of 2, and he'd almost not chosen it if not for Miriam shutting him down. She refused to let him involve himself in the battle anymore than necessary. She had a point; bullets were flying around a lot.

He needed [Wireless Hacking] for the next part. [Data Transmission] let him pick up on signals. [Hacking] let him pierce through any computer system. It wasn't a stretch to pick the augmentation that combined the two and hack into the Gasheads' secure comms.

"What's going on there?" Another bandit said on the other line. He kinda sounded like Adam's old math teacher, funnily enough. "I heard explosions!"

"Nothing, friend!" Adam lied, as he clutched his chin with his hand and put on his best complete moron impression. "Just one of our cannons fudging up."

Said cannon never got to fire, because Lucy just destroyed it. It exploded into a chunk of sparks.

"How's things going over there?" Adam asked.

"They're… ah, fuck! Brat just shot me! Bastard, tell Alec to make better make progress over there! One of us needs to get in—shit!"

Another gunshot. The line ended. That was Miriam's handiwork. She relayed the Gasheads's positions to him, and he sent the information back to the townsfolk. A slowed process, but it seemed to be working. Good information could bridge the gap between a number or tech gap.

He resumed back to his duties. He shot down more wraiths as they rose. He kept a count. Five, eight, ten. A truck screeched towards Saria, the driver screaming at her in panic and rage. She sent a fist of fire towards it, immolating it, then tossed a grenade at it. The truck exploded, killing its driver and giving nice third-degree burns to the surrounding bandits.

The battle was going well, he realised. Lucy and Saria had taken damage from stray shots. He himself had evaded the worst of the gunfire. Overall, they were winning.

It didn't make Adam any less nervous.

The precipice of victory was a fickle mistress. She had flipped the script on him countless times, so why should today be any different?

The humans of this non-integrated world were weak. They always were. It was woeful, almost pitiful, to witness their non-extended life spans, their lack of advanced biotech, or the void where Her Providence and Faith should've been. To their credit, some of them did understand magic—the inferior form of mystics. One of the bandits, a reedy fellow with a staff, tried to shoot lightning at Saria. She evaded around it, dodged his clumsy swing and shoved fire down his open mouth.

One day, the Goddess would arrive. The old, sinful, primitive ways would be swept aside, and the denizens of this world would be granted better lives beneath Her Providence. Until then, Her War Maidens were bound to protect Her Chosen. If that meant killing their fellow humans, then they would do so, with heavy, regretful hearts.

May you find your way toward Her wings. May you be granted better lives at the finale of Her cycle. May we be united as one, so that we forgive each other, cease our strife, and fight as one against the cold, uncaring rot of the universe!

One by one, the enemies fell, attuned to the beat of the War Maidens' mantras. Neither Lucy nor Saria spared a glance for their faces or names. This side of the village outskirts grew silent. The leader of the group let out a scream of rage and despair, then plunged a syringe into his neck.

Lucy's eyes widened with recognition. Saria, instead, felt the red.

It pulsed like a tumor, curled around her like a disease, and invaded her synapses like a thousand slimy needles. It prickled beneath her hard-earned muscles, corrupting Her [Pyrokinesis] and warping it into uncontrollable, unwieldy heat that spread all over and burned the innocent without a single pause or time to relax because the shadow of someone precious lurked at the corner of her vision and she couldn't, wouldn't even reach it with her useless, pustulous, mass of filth and rot that she was —

Saria looked down. The burned out husk of the man lay before her. The red vanished from her vicinity.

But not from the battlefield. More pulsed in the distance, where the other bandits were.