෴Raz෴
෴Fidel෴
෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴
Sucker Punch
෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴
Fidel reached out to take hold of Raz’s arms. In the drawn-out slow time, Raz couldn’t stop seeing the dream where Fidel had simply crushed and torn his hands away. The thought was enough to break his composure.
Shifting his hands away from Fidel’s grasp revealed the intact tranquilizer dart hidden in his clenched fist. Raz shifted it to his left hand and held it as a weapon.
The Russian stepped back from Raz and called out, “Juan, strelyat!”
A pop-hiss preceded another dart. Ready for it, Raz turned slightly and leaned to the side. He watched the dart slowly float toward him and plucked it from the air with thumb and forefingers as easily as catching a gentle toss.
Fidel started to shift his weight forward. Raz sidestepped his grasp and jabbed the dart into Fidel’s left arm as hard as he could. The max-speed movement through air like syrup made his muscles and tendons shriek in pain.
Without slowing, he used his rotational inertia and hurled the other dart up at the figure wielding the tranquilizer rifle. The dart flew in a fast, flat trajectory toward his target. The mercenaries with older AK’s didn’t seem to know what to do about this sudden development.
Raz took advantage of the moment of confusion and ran. The waypoint for the portal location looked hopelessly far.
The man he assumed was Juan called out something unintelligible that slurred and trailed off at the end. Fidel barked out orders in Russian behind him, and then murmured in English to someone on his radio. By this time, Raz was too far to make out what he said.
He was a few hundred yards past the outer lights of the outpost when the shouts and gunfire started. Panting in the dry desert air, Raz sprinted for the portal in the distance. He couldn’t feel it yet, but the outer edges of the shimmering distortion were just visible around the rocky ridge ahead.
He was nearly halfway there when he felt it. A sharp, hard thump he could feel through the ground. He dodged to the side and spun around in time to see Fidel land right where he would have been.
The Russian stuck the landing and turned toward him with a slow, confident lack of fear that bordered on disdain. “I regret mercy.”
Raz backed up, circling to keep moving toward the portal. “You should never regret mercy.”
Fidel made a spitting motion. “Was weakness.”
“It’s not that simple.” Raz backed toward the portal, all too aware of how far it still was.
Fidel rolled his neck, letting out several loud pops. “Is just you and me. Explain.”
I was playing for time, but now it seems like he’s playing for time. What’s happening here?
Scan.
[Human standard consciousness detected, tagged as: ‘Fidel’]
[Current status: stalking]
[Estimated HP: 95%]
[Energy: 10%]
[MHP: 4/6]
I guess that’s why he’s not doing the fire hands thing. Maybe I can steal that last 10% though.
[Warning: Draining his energy via Siphon will not have an immediate effect on passive abilities such as enhanced strength and durability.]
Analyze, drain, and siphon him as hard as possible any time we make contact!
Raz kept retreating away from the calmly advancing superhuman. “Do you really care what I think about the philosophy of power and mercy?”
Fidel shrugged, “Nyet. A little. Is mostly just—polit” he stumbled over the words, “manners.”
“Well, good manners would be to actually care about the answers to questions you ask!” Raz retorted as he continued to retreat.
Fidel laughed. “You funny guy. Mercy has place.”
New information appeared floating in his view without obscuring anything.
[New scan targets!]
[Animal nervous system detected, untagged.]
[Current status: fight or flight decision.]
[Estimated HP: 100%]
[Unclassified non-human consciousness detected, untagged]
[Current status: dormant, restless]
[Estimated HP: 100%]
[Energy 100%]
[MHP: 14/20]
Crap, that's more MHP than Midnight has. There must be something pretty scary out here.
[Unclassified non-human consciousness is reacting to scan, aborting.]
So distracted by his HUD messages, Raz almost missed his opponent’s charge. At the last second, he used the slow time to circle around the charge and shove against the back of Fidel’s neck to push him off balance.
The fraction of a second he pushed on Fidel’s neck was enough to spawn a series of messages. Raz stayed in slow time to read them.
[Analysis 1%]
[Target energy: 9.5%]
[Error: more time required to Take MHP from target.]
Despite the severity of the situation, Raz couldn't help smiling at this thought.
So that’s one way to get MHP back.
As soon as he could see Fidel was going to stumble and fall to the ground, Raz turned and ran. He made it less than 30 meters before feeling the hard thump of Fidel’s landing and leaping. Looking over his shoulder at the man sailing through the air, Raz mistimed his dodge and took a heavy blow to his shoulder that left his arm hanging limp and useless.
[Significant HP loss, left arm impaired.]
[Estimated time to regain basic function: 10 minutes]
[Estimated time to full recovery: 2-3 days.]
Yeah, or we could just do it now.
Raz split his attention between Fidel and his own body, and pulsed Somatic Restoration and Diagnose into himself, keeping the healing slow enough to allow him to focus on both.
The moment he started healing, Fidel jumped forward, cutting the distance between them in half. Raz backpedaled and sidestepped to maintain distance, desperately trying to finish patching his shoulder up.
The fight finally got close enough for Raz to sense the portal. A softly humming presence somewhere behind him in the dark.
Fidel suddenly stopped and waved his hand out across the desert. “Where you run? Is nowhere to go!”
Raz laughed, a short, harsh bark. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to wrap your head around the idea that I’d rather die in the desert than be captured by you.”
Raz continued to retreat, stepped over a raised stone edge, and started up the gentle slope toward the portal.
A few steps later, Fidel tripped over the same stone edge.
Of course! I can see just fine, but I bet he can barely see anything out here.
Raz weighed his options, then turned and ran up the hill. He angled his ascent slightly away from the portal, toward the top of the hill. Fidel grunted and took a flying leap forward.
His stiff-legged, rough landing made it clear he was leaping blindly or nearly so. Raz easily avoided him and continued up the hill. With the loose rocky ground, he couldn't help making more than enough noise to keep his pursuer close.
[This is a dangerous game. He is enraged. A single hit could end us. We won’t survive it if he catches us.]
Lungs burning from the extended sprinting and dry desert air, Raz cut a zig-zag path heading upward in the least predictable way he could. Each time Fidel was close, a well-timed dodge or turn was enough to open the gap. Each time he’d opened up some distance, a gasping cough or kicking at some loose rock was enough to point Fidel in the right direction.
After what felt like an exhausting climb, Raz finally rounded the side of the hill and spotted the portal.
Oh no.
The portal wasn't there. What he’d run toward was nothing more than the afterimage of where it had been. There was no escape this way, and no help coming. Raz swallowed and looked around for his pursuer.
Fidel was several dozen feet away, standing absolutely still. Both hands cupped around his ears as he rotated his head like a radar dish.
When the Russian bruiser faced his direction, Raz scarcely dared to breathe.
After several moments of keeping his eyes on the looming threat, Raz determined it was safe to activate Somatic Restoration. The world slowed and brightened in the now familiar feeling of slow time.
Closing his eyes, he focussed inward on the small and large tears and pressure injuries, Raz repaired his shoulder muscles and connective tissue. Just as he was starting on the scapular microfracture caused by the hit, danger instincts screamed for his attention.
Fidel was charging straight at him. Each outrageously powerful step kicking up explosions of sand and rocks in his path. The charging juggernaut’s gaze flicked around blindly but kept coming back to stare right at his quarry.
Remaining in the slow time, Raz dropped Somatic Restoration and tried to roll out of the path of destruction.
The roll failed to clear him in time. Fidel’s boot slammed into Raz’s shin like an unstoppable club. The impact spun Raz off course. A new list of injuries popped up just as the final Diagnose pulse echoed through him.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
[Warning:
Tibial hairline fracture.
Anterior tibial vein rupture.
List of damaged muscle and tendon—]
Raz dismissed the list. He could feel how hard FIdel had hit him. At least, he thought he could. At first, the injury barely hurt at all, rather it was a sort of aching numbness. The moment he tried to stand on it, he felt a grinding of broken bone surfaces pressed against each other that sent a paralyzing wave of blinding pain. His leg felt like it was filled with broken glass. Raz couldn’t suppress a small grunting whine as agony spiked through his cracked shinbone.
Fidel scarcely seemed to have noticed the hit on his end. He charged a few feet further, then stumbled to a stop.
How did he know where I was?! Can he hear me breathing?
He carefully tried to stand up, but his leg wasn’t having any of that nonsense. Fidel once again patiently posted up, slowly turning around with his hands directing sound into his ears.
What was I thinking? I should have been able to just get away, but no, I couldn’t seem to shake him even in the dark!
Sacrificing all grace and speed for stealth, Raz managed a painstakingly slow, excruciating three-limbed crawl away from Fidel without being heard.
Once he was out of earshot, Raz started to heal up his broken leg. Only the automatic use of slow time with Somatic Restoration saved him. The instant he started to repair the damage shown by his Diagnose pulse, Fidel’s gaze snapped in his direction, and the unstoppable Russian charged again.
The moment Raz dropped Somatic Restoration and scrambled to the side, Fidel slowed to a stop and then slowly continued walking the way he’d been going. Each step he kicked sand and dirt ahead of him.
Heart in his mouth, Raz carefully crawled further up the hill, all too aware of the steep drop-off into the darkness that even he couldn’t see the bottom of.
When he reached the edge of the hill, he looked back at Fidel and watched him stop abruptly, a few feet from the drop-off, close enough to reach out and touch. Raz didn’t even breathe.
What the hell? Does he have enhanced senses?
[Doubtful. It is far more likely he has extensive training and experience fighting in darkness. Rudimentary echolocation is possible for an unenhanced human with practice. However, it requires a far greater training investment, and yields far lesser precision than you now possess.]
Fidel was standing way too close. Raz was pretty sure he could actually feel the heat radiating from him. Desperate to get just a bit further away, Raz lifted his good leg, then repositioned it ever so carefully. He moved his injured leg even slower, coming to rest on a patch of soft sand. Fidel turned his head down toward the abyss, then away from where Raz lay. The slightest change, a ready wariness came over Fidel when the bad leg touched down on the sand. Raz went totally still.
They waited in a blind stalemate. His HUD made it clear that it was only 97 seconds, but to Raz, it felt as though the two of them sat there for an hour in the heavy, taut silence. Raz trying to remain utterly silent, Fidel shifting his head back and forth slowly, like a shark or wolf, hoping to catch the faintest trace of his prey. When the big man started sniffing the air, Raz had never been so glad to favor unscented soaps in his life.
His hands and arms burned with the strain of holding him up and perfectly still. The urge to simply take a full breath, or shift his weight to escape the growing discomfort was nearly unbearable.
After an eternity of sitting, Fidel shrugged and turned to go. He placed each step carefully, walking silently on his toes as he went.
Raz allowed himself a tiny shift in position and a breath. Fidel whirled at the tiny sound. To his horror, Raz felt his hand dislodge a single pebble. The pebble rolled a few inches down the hill, then stopped.
Fidel stood there, staring sightlessly at the spot he’d heard the sound. Raz watched the pebble sit on the edge of the drop-off. The sand beneath the pebble slowly falling away, out from under it.
Before it even happened, Raz winced, knowing what was coming, but unable to stop it. The pebble fell. With a series of soft clicks of stone on stone, it rolled down the steep slope, then off the cliff.
Fidel exploded into action. Even as deep into the surreal slow time world as he could go, Raz couldn’t crawl with one leg fast enough to evade Fidel’s iron grip.
Raz felt a choked scream erupt from his lips when Fidel seized him by the broken leg and squeezed tightly enough to grind his bones together. After a satisfied grunt at the sound of his pain, Fidel hoisted him up by his broken leg.
[Analysis 11%]
[Target energy: 7.5%]
[Transferring.]
“You! Are! Problem!” He spat each word at Raz with a disgusted sound. When Raz didn’t reply Fidel tightened his grip on the broken leg and shook him hard.
Dazed, body contorted in a rictus of pain, Raz tried to speak, or at least he thought he did.
“Stop! Running! Away!” Fidel demanded, punctuating each word with a casual rib-cracking backhand.
[Analysis 22%]
[Target energy: 5%]
[Transferring.]
“Put me do—” Raz started.
Fidel cut him off with a kick to the head. Even blocking the kick with both hands barely slowed it down.
A high-pitched ringing sound echoed in his head. The HUD blurred and faded in and out, but that might have just been Raz’s consciousness. In his inverted state, the blood ran up his face, getting in his eyes and going up his nose as Fidel kept him hanging there.
He coughed, spraying bloody mucus all over himself and Fidel. This further enraged the man.
Fidel reached down and grabbed the front of Raz’s shirt, clenching it in his fist. He let go of Raz’s leg, allowing it to slam to the ground. Somehow amongst the sea of nausea and shocking bursts of pain, Raz noticed the sound of popping stitches and tearing fabric.
As he coughed up more bloody fluid, Raz grabbed Fidel’s arm and used a wrist control technique procedural chain designed to break a hold.
The chain failed immediately, spewing a raft of bodily integrity and negative condition errors he didn’t have time to look at.
[Analysis 45%]
[Target energy: 3.5%]
[Transferring.]
Fidel slammed Raz against the ground, and everything went black.
The next thing Raz knew was a world of pain. He was lying on his side on the ground. His blood soaked the sand in front of his mouth. A man sat on the ground next to him. The rocky sand poking into his side and hip was somehow the least uncomfortable part of his life right then. Someone was talking. Every bone in his body seemed to hurt. Blood continued to drool out of his mouth and nose. His mouth tasted like blood and battery acid.
The voice of ‘someone’ resolved into ‘the man sitting next to him’, which resolved into Fidel’s thickly accented English.
“You send crew now or he die.”
Indistinct muttering from his earpiece.
“No. He broken. Send crew or he broken and dead.”
The voice on the earbud sounded like it was shouting. In his Daze, Raz felt like he should have been able to hear what the other voice was saying.
“Don't know. Only hit him a little.”
A rough hand landed on his unbroken leg. Raz had just enough time to be glad it was the uninjured leg before the hand clamped down tightly. The last messages from the HUD were still visible, but greyed out and non-responsive.
[Analysis 60%]
[Target energy: 2%]
[Transfer complete.
[MHP 3/2]
[90 seconds until overmax MHP lost.]
“You send crew. Too tired.”
The other voice said something, then went silent.
Bee, you there?
Raz was simultaneously glad Bee responded, and deeply worried when the response was a haphazard series of characters like line noise.
[03[q b89c5ytrf-930healf0-893brainhmfcaa2393dama8r201ge3 5yhfnconcu320=ssion39r]
[C̸̥̈r̸̛͖i̸̙͂ť̷̞ī̸͎c̷̦̄ă̸̝l̸͎̊ ̷̙͑C̶̯͐o̸͍̒n̴͎͘c̶̡̿ų̴̐s̶̤͛s̵̡̈i̶͗ͅó̸̪n̶͚̑ ̷̇ͅI̶̳̾n̷̨̑j̷̖̋u̶̞͋ṛ̵̚y̵͈̑.̸̯͌ ̶̩͂H̴͎́ė̴̦a̸͑ͅḻ̶̓ ̶̖́Y̸͆ͅȍ̴̱ṷ̷̇r̸̯̈́s̶̈́͜e̶̢͒l̴̪͆f̶̫̀!̸͉̋ ̵͔͋]
He knows when I use Somatic—
Raz faded out for a few seconds.
Restoration. I can't take any more hits.
Bee responded with another string of noise and random-looking characters.
[32ground-09controlg329and230jh8kill12308hv34n782him(*P&R%T]
[Ụ̵͐s̸̤̏ē̶̗ ̷̞̈g̶̰̎ŕ̷̝õ̸̙ȕ̸͚n̵̙̅d̵̬̒ ̸͈̈c̶̝͛o̷͖̚ń̵͔t̷͈̐r̸̫̋ö̷̗́l̸̙͊ ̸̺̇a̸̯̒ň̵̤d̴̼͊ ̶͎̿k̴͙͠ḭ̷̚l̴͔͛l̶͉͘ ̷͍́h̵̤͒ì̸̟m̴̥̔ ̸̞͊w̷̺͛h̶̯̽i̴͇̋l̸̘͝e̶͝ͅ ̶̠͒w̶͎͌e̸̘͝ ̴̬̓c̷̪̆a̶̦͝ǹ̵̝!̴͕͒]
Raz tried to talk but ended up muttering something rendered unintelligible by his swollen face and what felt like a broken jaw.
Fidel leaned over him. “Running. Bah!” he spit off to the side. “You foolish. Go into shock now. Probably die.”
The HUD winked out. Raz groaned in despair.
Just keep breathing. I’m still healing faster than a normal person.
He coughed out another wad of thick, partially coagulated blood.
Of course, a normal person wouldn't be getting pounded by a human tank.
The HUD came back. It looked different than Raz had ever seen it. Fidel’s form was highlighted in his view against a red pulsing background. Bee apparently had one simple message for him.
[E͓ͯm͉ͫe̲̔ṛ̈́g̥̓e̩ͪǹ̼c̻̒y͈̆ P̬͗r̙ͨô͓t̺͑o̩ͥc͕̆o͓ͭl̙ͥ.̫ͩ S̚ͅá̲f̖̃e͎̅t̖͂y̯̒ Ḭͧn̹̾t͎ͦe̩ͪr̭ͩl̟̔o̳̅c͉ͯk̘̄s̮̾ d͈ͪi̟ͯṡ̘a̭̚b̝ͯl̲̊ȅͅd͎ͧ!͇̔]
[K̗ͫì̩l̞̔l̞̋ h͓̀i̙ͥm͔̀ n͖̐o̙̍w͓̾ ȯ̝r͖̋ w̆ͅe͚ͭ'̥ͦr͈͊e̤͐ d̦̂ẹ̎a͚̾d̲̂!̟̐.]
Fidel produced a small flame from one of his fingers, using the pale orange light to look over his prisoner. He touched his earbud again.
“Want to hurry. Sound bad. Blood, bone, in lung.”
Raz tried to speak and coughed up more of the thick bloody mucus. “Guuh tmm hlll”
“What you say? Too quiet.” Fidel asked, seeming for all the world like he was calm, maybe even in a good mood, with no trace of the rage he’d shown moments before.
The well-built man got to his feet slowly, weariness clear in his movements. He casually grabbed Raz by the front of his shirt again, popping more stitches and ripping the shoulder seams. The shorter man lifted Raz’s taller but limp body up so that they were eye to eye, leaving Raz with his feet splayed out on the sand.
“What you say?”
Raz turned his head and coughed up, and spit out, more of the red phlegm. “Uh sud, Guuh ooh hill!”
“Hill? Yes. We on hill.” Fidel pointed out into the desert at the group of flashlights moving toward them. “They be here soon.” He shook his head with what looked like genuine regret. “Not want this for you. Sorry, you run, force me.”
Raz activated Ground Control and willed it to hit Fidel. Aside from a faintly flashing marker appearing over the spot he’d been thinking about on Fidel’s chest, nothing happened.
At that moment, Raz knew he’d lost. He’d misjudged his opponent’s capabilities while overestimating his own. Fidel was far too strong, far too tough. He’d made too many mistakes. The ‘battle’ had been a one-sided pounding. He’d used his second-tier attack power, and nothing at all had happened. In that moment of defeat, Raz wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and sob.
Instead, he found himself picturing how he would explain to Sia that he’d just given up when things got too hard. Then his dad appeared in his mind, looking just the way he remembered him. He explained to his dad what he was trying to do. His dad shook his head and made him talk about his plan to get out of his current situation. Raz didn’t have any such plan. Then his mind played the cruelest of tricks. His mother appeared, her face and body language radiating distress, begging to know why he’d given up on finding her.
[A͛̕ͅt̺̑͘t͉̏̕a͚ͭ̕c̳̆͟k̶͖̄ ̗ͨ̀h̬͛͜i̙͛́m͖̑͠!͙̏̕ ͓ͥ͟F̛̟̔i̻ͬ͘g̛͎̐hͭ҉̻ţ͚ͮ ̝ͩ͞b͎̾͘a̷͕̍c̖ͨ͢k̙̓͟!̢̟͐]
What do you want from me?! I can’t do anything!
“I know you’ll make me proud.” His father said.
“Please find me. I need you.” His mother pleaded.
“You promised.” A chorus of Hex voices insisted.
He tried and failed to open both eyes. One eye was swollen up and stuck shut with his drying blood. He realized he couldn't remember which side it was, and that seemed like a bad sign.
You there, Bee? Talk to me!
[S̭ͭ̕y͍̌͜s̞͛͢t̯͆͘e͖ͬ͟m̡̱̍ ̣ͤ͜H̏͡ͅo͛҉̳s̨̠͗t̢͈̋ ͈̉͘Șͬ͞ÿ̯́͢n̵̖͒c̛̘̔ ̨̙ͪE̯͑̕r̫ͪ̕r̝̋͜o͌҉̦ṟ̡̽!̭͐́]
[̷̪̊Y̞̆͜ḙ̡̈́s̥̓͠.̶̥͑ M̶̮̋o͉ͬ͢s̠͆͜t̷͓ͮl̡͔ͮy̴̤̿ F̡̝̍ų̠̈n̼ͥ͝c̯͗͝ṱ̡̽ị̧̉o̠̓̀n̶̜ͬa̳ͬ͝l̛̠ͩ.]
The translucent red HUD flickered ominously.
I’m going to open up White Fire, no safety, no limits.
[À̷̡̡͖̥̺̖̈̀l̸̡̟̝̤̭͒̿̅r̴͔͉̔͆ë̴̯͂a̸͈͒̐d̸̼̉͆̃̀̿̒y̸̨̲͈̔́͆̈́̔ ̴̯̹̠̟̰͙́d̵̬̄̽͘͘͝ǫ̵̫͒̎ń̴͙̥̼͒ȅ̸̡̝̠̳͜.̴̡͈͉̺͔̑͑͑͜ ̵̫̥͍̻̋̓F̵̫̳̝̩͐͊̚͜r̶̰̙̺͎͎̓̃̈́͋y̷̩̗͐ͅ ̷̝̣̫͚͠h̴͙̱̱́̇̀i̶͍̘̮̘̮͛̾̈̓̉̄͜m̶͓̜̀!̴͎͙̝͌̇̊͗͘͠]
“Up here!” Fidel shouted down at the advancing team.
Out of time. Only going to get one chance.
Raz looked Fidel in the eye and tried to speak again. He tried to speak but barely managed to murmur softly.
“Too quiet, little man.” Fidel pulled him closer, the iron grip further shredding his shirt. “What you say?”
Raz tried again, but couldn’t get the words out. “Guh tmm hill.”
“Hill? What you mean?”
Mentally feeling around the high-pressure vessel inside him that led to the roiling ocean of White Fire, Raz looked for, and found his dump valve. Raz drank in his own helpless rage, and took a firm inner grasp on it.
With a pained rictus that somehow looked almost like the grin of a vengeful spirit, Raz looked into Fidel’s eyes.
“I said.” His slurred words sprayed bloody spittle into the other man’s face as he yanked the barrier holding back White Fire wide open.
For a split second, Fidel’s expression betrayed his realization that something terrible was happening. His face betrayed the sudden influx of unfamiliar fear filling his heart. He felt the fearsome force rising around his prisoner. Raz looked at him with eyes that shone with an eerie inner light.
“Go to hell.” Through his bloodied mouth and loosened teeth, Raz managed to speak clearly at last.
A brilliant flash of light accompanied by an explosion of sound divided the sky. The blade of light and heat visible for miles around. Raz staggered forward as Fidel flew backward, as though swatted away by the hand of a god. He flew out into the canyon, leaving a trail of smoke laden with the scent of burning flesh, still clutching a handful of torn fabric from Raz’s shirt. The painfully brilliant light followed him down into the chasm, out of sight.
As he focussed on closing down the raging surge of White Fire, Raz didn’t realize he was sliding down the loose dirt toward the edge of the cliff.
Upon noticing the situation, he realized the danger immediately. Dropping into slow time, he turned and spread himself out on the loose sandy slope, trying to slow his inexorable slide. His hands and working foot found no real purchase, and within seconds he felt his feet slip over the edge. Despite the stabbing pain in his cracked shoulder blade, both hands were a blur of motion, all but swimming in the flowing fine-grained sand to try to find some way to arrest his fall.
The rest of him went over the cliff. As a last-ditch effort, Raz grabbed hold of a knobby rock on the ledge and barely succeeded in arresting his fall. The shock of agony from his cracked shoulder blade tore a guttural cry of pain from his lips as he took the weight of his body on that arm. Without risking a glance below him, Raz reached up with his other hand to find another place to grip the rocky edge of the cliff.