Huff huff huff
The sound of men panting echoes throughout the long cavernous hallway, their boots resounding desperation against the metalic floor.
" 'Ome on, now!! We've almost made it! Just 'rounda corner!" A Scottish voice shouts out.
From the direction of the shout and footsteps, a well-beaten group of adventurers shows as they turn into the corridor, their hair disheveled, armors bent, weapons broken, guns needing of maintanence, and everyone having a various number of wounds.
At the front of the group, a burly, potbellied man, his beard singed, smiles back at his comrades.
"See?! What I tell'ya? Aren't I right?" he says as he tries to pick up slack while supporting the group's wounded leader. At the other end of the corridor was a set of stairs leading back up to the next floor.
The rest of the group started to smile at one another and followed the burly man's lead, starting after him, hobbling and running as best they could.
Three of the group soon past the burly man and leader, but of these three, only one was noticeably less injured and carrying a large backpack, obviously over filled with something. As the three kept running, one of these somethings slipped out of the pack and almost fell to the ground, luckily being caught by a woman carrying a slinged SR-25, a large caliber rifle though the barrel was cleanly and recently cut mid way through.
"Thomas!" In an aggravated voice, "Fucking be careful with the Egs!! Every one of these things is a meal back home!" she says as she tries to stuff the Eg back into the pack.
"Sorry, Tirra," Thomas says back with a strained smile, "but dont bother placing that back. Place it... I dont know... in a... in one of your mag pockets! Yeah! One of those should be empty, right?"
" 'One of those should be empty, right?' Of course they aren't! I reuse mags you know?! Do you have any idea-"
"Well 'soooorry,' I thought the Eg was bit more important than an empty magazine?! And also, aren't magazine's cheap?"
"What the Hell would you-"
"Now both of you shut the hell up and quit acting like a bunch of babies!" The other person finally fed up with their chatter, "Right now, we need to make sure everything is clear at the stairs! Now, Thomas, you're sure those bastards won't be chasing us up the next floor?"
"They shouldn't! From what I've read, normally they don't chase people past the yellow zone into the green zone... but... but these things have been trailing us ever since Y7! They aren't normal!" Thomas replies with some concern.
"Haven't you learned? Things here are never as they are meant to be. Up becomes down, left becomes right, what is there isnt, big becomes small, vica versa. I mean for fuck sake; we're being hunted down by large ass mechanical spiders!"
"TLDR: Fuck normal, here's weird. Tch, you and your philisophical paranoia, Jerome, but for some reason or another, you are our second in command." Tirra chimes.
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Scoffs "Better to be paranoid than dead." retorts Jerome as the three finally make it to the base of stairs, "Now, secure this stairway. Tirra, stay here and cover the rest of the group with what bullets you have left-"
"Not with what my baby's been through," Tirra whines.
"Your 'baby' will do just fine. Cover them with what you can. Thomas, you're with me, leave the pack with Tirra"
Thomas nods and gently lays the overfilled pack near the stairs. In one of the pack's outside pouches, he retrieves a spare MP5 submachine gun and a weird trinket in the shape of a dumbell.
Confirming his items, Thomas nodded to himself, loaded a magazine, placed his trinket in the newly vacated pocket, and followed after Jerome, who was by this time already started up the stairs with his custom 12 gauge, a shotgun outfitted with a custom made recharging front shield fitted near the start of the barrell.
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As the two climbed up the stair, their nerves, tense and twitchy, from the journey here, started to loosen.
Thomas breathed in deep and slowly released.
Almost done, Thomas. Almost done. Thomas thought to himself.
Jerome noticed this and broke the silence.
"Breathe in a sigh of release once we're out of here, not while we're still in"
Startled, Thomas replies, "I know, but we're almost out. It should be smooth sai-"
Jerome quickly covers Thomas's mouth.
"Do NOT say that phrase. It brings nothing but trouble, and in here, it listens and learns." Jerome says with intensity, slowly uncovering Thomas's mouth.
With the palpable intensity returning around Thomas, Thomas sulks a little.
"Damn paranoid," Thomas grumbles under his breath.
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The climb up took about 10 minutes and Jerome was the first one to reach the top of the stairs. However, with a silent but aggravated sigh that was only compounded by intense stress getting to this point, Jerome stood still shotgun at the ready.
When Thomas's soon arrived at the top, he heard a whisper from Jerome,
"Thomas, when we get out of here, remind me to punch you."
To the duo's surprise, or atleast one of them, what was waiting at the top of the stairs were mechanical spiderlings.
Thomas remembered that spiderlings are easy to deal with alone. That though they have razor like appendages for legs and can easily ambush a person unwary of their presence with deadly accuracy, they are big enough to be hit easily and, if they are hit once, explode sending shrapnel in a very small radius. However, they are hardly done in easily. For if there was one thing these pests were good at, it was jumping. Luckily, it was only one swarm.
As soon as Thomas realized what they were up against, Jerome fired his shotgun, immediately destroying a good chunk of the 400 strong swarm but also alerting of the duo's presence.
"Don't just stand there! FIRE!!!" Jerome shouted as Thomas opened on the swarm in reply.
As a rain of bullets and lead filled the air for about 9 seconds, the 400 strong swarm of spiderlings didn't manage to put up much of a strong retaliation. The swarm was only able to put minimal damage upon the duo, though just adding on the number of wounds the uo already had, exploding in a beautifully array of yellow and red, and killing their breatheren in death.
"Phew..." Thomas says and smiles, "Think we can atleast scrap together some of those spiderling blades?"
Jerome sighs and was about to say something when gunfire starts echoing from the stairway.
Jerome stares at the stairway for a second, and glances at Thomas, mouthing a "no" as he starts dashing down the stairs.
Just when Thomas was to follow after the second in command, a large explosion rocked the room, causing Thomas to stumble and his triket to fall out of a tear in his vest.
Huh, one of the spiderlings must've gotten lucky... Thomas thought, and as he reached down to pick his triket up quickly, a quick, intense pain ran through his body as his thumb pricked something on the usually smooth surface of the trinket.
Ouch... Not the time... gotta the others!
Thomas quickly pockets the trinket and chases after Jerome.
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In Thomas's pocket, the trinket quietly humms to life. Intricate but beautiful blue lines start manifesting on the handle and "bells." Within, something awakes.
> [... ... ... ACC: Restarting ACC Program...]