Freedom was weird. Was this freedom? I wandered the Dark Flame’s facility, mostly keeping to myself; adjusting was hard. Everywhere was just loud and bright, and the mesh of emotions, smells, and voices was a lot to adapt to. Ark and Ace were doing their best to handle the transition. They replaced my mattress when Flint, another thing to get used to, complained for me.

The preparations for the mission were going suspiciously well. Light Industries was being extremely lax in security for the event, using it as a training mission for the CEO’s son and his team, who hadn’t even completed one year of training. The intercepted emails mostly complained about the blatant nepotism rather than any concern about safety.

Ark laughed when he found out, muttering something about Washington always overestimating his students, though he did warn us against underestimating unknowns. The information that we were able to get on the kid and his team was that they consisted of those that notable people have taken a note off. Washington himself advocated for the leader despite their lack of prerequisite credentials, and Dr Jacq took an eye on them. The power sets were also intriguing.

While we trained for the mission, the other half was being prepared for at the facility. The gathering of extra resources and other precautions that needed to be taken place as if we were successful, a mass of poorly treated people would be arriving soon, which had many aspects to address. Health and comfort were a main issue, with that many people in a new situation, Shades are likely about to become a higher issue than they were currently.

I walked past new rooms and added facilities being implemented. The smell of laundry detergents felt suffocating. None of the workers noticed me. There were so many aspects I was just not used to. Flint described the place as homely and posh. He had adapted better than I. If I wanted to find him, I just needed to find where they kept the alcohol or where there was a loud crowd.

I mostly kept to the side. There were benefits to the facility other than being able to explore, while Flint indulged in alcohol and crowds, drank coffee, and used the gym. Flint occasionally tried to get me to join him, mostly because he found how I unnerved people funny. Many had compared me to a Dark Skipper, which only moved when unobserved, as I tended to be silent when I moved.

The only thing I had to kill here was time, and with it being so long, I was itching to kill something, at least, so I went to the side of the facility where they were keeping guard. My sword was in the building next to them; I probably should warn Ark about how easy it is to get at the weapons.

I left the confines of the facility, the sounds of humanity fading away to the sounds of wildlife. I turned invisible to enhance my senses as sight faded away. A pang of hatred highlighted the direction I should go. I stopped to turn visible and gave a flat look to the left.

“Ah, I thought you were getting sloppy with all this luxury, but alas, tis I whom is the sloppy one it should seem,” Flint said, making himself known, overemphasising his language.

I turned invisible again.

“Don’t be like that,” Flint smirked, “I knew you’d also want to fuck something up. I can’t believe that Ark wants us to do the mission as least murdery as we can. Why’d he chose the most murdery people to try and save to do it is beyond me. Probably, we’re the best at infiltrating for Ace to gain control. I certainly know I’ve already infiltrated a few things here, if you know what I mean.” Even without being able to see, I know he's wiggling his eyebrows.

I roll my eyes, reappear, and motion for him to follow before disappearing again. I ignored the lesser feelings of hatred and the small feeling of intrigue as I moved towards the main epicentre of the emotion; I didn’t feel like swatting flies at the moment. Flint had no such objections, as they were quickly extinguished as we moved on; only the swing of his weapon could be heard.

When the radiation of hatred was a mountain in front, I stopped and crouched down before reappearing to get visual information on how best to eliminate the threat. The Shade was a Tusk, its antlers and tusks jutted out at weird angles, sharpened against its foes. It looked like a mash up of a boar and an elephant, its armour around its face and jaw fashioning its expression with a permanent scowl. Parts of its armour were warped around its skin from refusing together from breaking in previous fights.

“Ah neat, it survived a few Tuskuls,” Flint wandered into the clearing with no regard to stealth, causing the Tusk to turn towards us. It growled deep in anger, smoke coming out of its extended snout. “Get it, Knight? Tussles, but like with a tusk in it? Eh, that is a slight stretch, I admit.”

He leisurely readied his weapon as it clawed at the ground to charge.

“Is this really the most difficult you could find, Knight? Look at it; it's just a baby, a toddler at most. Dis. a. point. ting.” He shook his head, tutting as his scythe trailed on the ground, walking towards it.

It kicked off, moving impossibly fast for something of its size towards Flint, who casually stepped out of the way, bringing the scythe across, cutting through its leg joint like butter, causing it to crash as the limb slid away from the rest of its body. The Tusk’s body twisted in Flint’s direction as the scythe went through, the antler missing by a couple of centimetres, the breeze moving his hair slightly.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

The Tusk's red eyes bulged in anger as its flesh began to steam under its armour, rage physically boiling the trees around it. Around the Tusk, you could hear the hissing and popping as it grew angrier. The ground became black from char before melting. The ground seemingly drew in shadows as newly born smaller Tusks, with less defined armour, crawled out of the molten pit, screeching with the same anger.

Flint rolled his eyes and looked over to where I was watching the fight unfold, “You going to help?”

I move from where I was leaning against a tree just outside the clear, lightly jogging towards the Shade, I use my sword’s recoil to boost a jump hitting one of the lesser Tusks, killing it, as I swung it into the main Tusks face cracking its armour. I leaver myself onto its back and kick myself away, feeling the heat seeping through my boots almost unbearably, the sooty air making it slightly difficult to breathe.

“I meant, like, shoot it from afar, not be all fancy,” Flint complained.

In response, I reloaded and shot it in its neck area, shattering it, the black liquid seeping out where the shards pierced its flesh. Flint sighed and, after using the emerging Tusks as stepping stones, swung his scythe, cutting off the Tusks head and landed next to the molten pit. He then made some room before setting the scythe to its minigun mode and unloading the bullets into what remained of the Tusk and the lesser Tusks until he could see the tell tell black smoke rising from the corpse with a bored expression.

“I was honestly hoping that would be more difficult; at least with people, there's always an unknown factor that makes it more interesting.”

Suddenly, I could hear clapping.

Ark appeared from the other side of the clearing, “Bravo, thank you for helping us deal with that Tusk. There certainly is a difference between hearing of your exploits and witnessing them in person, far more style than I expected.”

“Ah, great. We have an audience.” Flint looked round at the remnants of the battle, “I’m not cleaning this up.”

He paused and then said, “Knight might, though. Isn’t that right, buddy? Just say no out loud if you disagree.”

I gave him a side eye.

“That won’t be necessary,” Ark carried on, “I hold no attachment to the state of the forest, only in the danger it represents. I’m sure you’re wondering how I managed to watch without your friend Knight noticing.”

“No, not really,” Flint replied matter of factly.

“Well, you see, as most trained-” Ark started before catching himself after he registered what Flint actually said, “Wait, did you just say no?”

“Yeah, what's it to me? If Knight fucks up, that’s his issue.”

Ark returned his cool and turned to me, “Well, Knight, then, the reason I was able to keep hidden from your view was because I, like most classically trained Mythics, am trained in emotional invisibility. I knew of your escapade due to the guards you slipped by reporting your missing weapons.”

“I don’t think he cares either, but since you’re here, do you know of any more Shades we could kill?”

Ark held the bridge of his nose and sighed, “Fine, there's a den of Draknids nearby which needs clearing.”

***

We spent the next hour or so dealing with different infestations of Shades in order to make the rest of the organisation’s work easier. After the first two Ark brought out Ace in order for him to learn how we fort, we had done some group training using some software that Ark had, but that lacked different sensory aspects that I believe are essential, and it’s difficult to encode each of our legacies. In person fights are a completely different beast to the simulations.

Ace was able to mimic some of our combat moves, which enabled us to break through the different Shades' armour more effectively. He mirrored my moves exactly, hitting the exact same spots. We brought back the trophies that remained after the Shades, which were useful for materials and research.

While the mission dictated that we use non-lethal tactics, at least for the most part, this was still useful for the team in case we ran into anything in the air. Ace was still working out my nonverbal communications, which were not helped by Flint mistranslating them, which caused a couple of unnecessary attacks to leak through.

Ark mostly just observed the fights, making notes as necessary and pointing out weak points as he went in order to improve our style, though it was mostly for Ace’s benefit. While Ace could copy exactly, he lacked the experience that was needed to know why each move was chosen or the muscles that were developed in service of fighting. I could easily take him down even if he mirrored my moves perfectly, he was less willing to endure pain and damage needed in order to win when fights got nasty.

As was evident when we arrived back at the facility, Flint taught him in a one-on-one fight that sometimes you have to stab yourself in order to get one over your opponent, which was one of Flint's favourite moves. He used to boast after his missions that he psyched out his target through wedging their weapon in his side in order to disarm them. His body was littered with many scars due to this fact.

Ace wasn’t likely to need to fight if things went as planned, as his main role was as the driver. Flint and I were the ones needed for our infiltration and killing skills. At most, he would need to man some of the weapons against any flying Shades on the way to the pickup point.

But of course, that's reliant on things going to plan, and Light Industries was not one to underestimate. Despite what the intercepted communications suggest, it was likely that there was information we were missing. As the late director often knew, you always have to account for deceptive incompetence. The man was paranoid for good reason and never trusted information unless multiple sources confirmed it. Even then, he was always weary of deception.

Things almost never go to plan; always anticipate the worst.