Hezekiah looked around, completely surrounded by water. His brain and eyes hurt as cold river water went up into his nose and his open eyes. He tried to gasp for air but failed, just barely able to stop himself from drowning in it. He trained for this. Marines knew how to swim. Instinctively he began a paddle to the surface of the water. To orient himself, he forced his eyes open despite the discomfort and he was able to spot the light of the skies above him. Behind him was their boat, sinking down into a black void of the riverbed below. It crashed against a few rocks as it continued its descent, wooden planks breaking and snapping all the way through. Although he wasn't able to study it, nobody appeared to be trapped inside. Hezekiah felt himself rise to the top as he continued to swim upwards, closer and closer to the surface of the water…

He gasped when his head broke through the surface, nearly about to sink again he kept paddling to keep his head above water. He felt nothing so far. His heart was racing, his mind preoccupied with staying afloat, his arms and legs focusing on paddling, he didn't notice the freezing cold of the river water. His body was completely oblivious to the fact that he was freezing to death. All Hezekiah knew was that he had to get out of the river as fast as possible and luckily he ended up close to the shore. He began paddling to the riverbank, pulling himself up on a dirt slope. It wasn't easy, with the weight of his vest and body armor pulling him down, and by the time he made the journey his legs collapsed and he fell on his hands in nothing but pure exhaustion. Muscles ached and his body cried for relief. His breathing now erratic, his skin sensitive to the touch of even his clothes brushing against it. His arms instinctively wrapped around his body, hands rubbing over him in a desperate bid to warm up. His teeth clattered like the sound of fingers hitting keys and he shivered uncontrollably. Hezekiah's mind finally realizing that he was transforming into a living ice cube.

"Oh sss-sshit," Hezekiah whispered through clattering teeth. He tried curling up into a ball on the ground, but the heat didn't grow and the cold still penetrated. He wanted to remain where he was so desperately, but staying outside would kill him sooner. Hezekiah's winter clothing was still completely soaked which wasn't helping at all. He took a look around to assess his situation. The snow had worsened now. Luckily the portion of the river bank he sat on was free of any snow or ice.

Knowing that he couldn't stay here unless he wanted to die of hypothermia, he began to move. His body screamed for him to stop, to finally take a rest. But rest now would be deadly. He could already feel signs of hypothermia set in, sudden drowsiness being among them. Besides, walking would help him generate a bit more heat and would probably shake off some of the excess water if it hadn't frozen to him already. He began moving uphill, slowly walking since every step sent a stiff pain through his aching feet. But he trudged on to find shelter. He couldn't die here, not yet... not now.

He approached a complex which was a shipyard of sorts. The dock was fairly well sized, a stone surface covered the floor that jutted out into piers where wooden boats with massive sails were tied up. Along the dock were tall stone structures with metal parts angled at the top, Hezekiah figured it was an early crane of some sorts built to lift cargo or to help build the ships. Further on the dock were multiple buildings, all made of stone bricks and colorful roof tiles. He figured his best chance was to hole up inside of one of those buildings, welcome or not. He felt around his equipment, sending a silent prayer when his hands landed on his rifle. He'd still be able to defend himself if it came to it, but only if he didn't freeze to death first. So he took another painful step onwards.

Gusts of heavy wind would kick up blowing snow and ice into his face, making it quite difficult to see ahead. Though from what he could gather, the dockyards were uninhabited. Either the workers went home for the day or they ran away following the explosion. Hezekiah tried to formulate a plan of action. If he could get inside of one of those buildings he'd radio the rest of Unity. Knowing that it was completely possible that all of them didn't make it, Hezekiah prepared for the worst news. He cared deeply for the rest of his squad, even for the elves who had graciously helped them out. He knew that it was possible that one or all of them didn't make it...

He furiously shook his head. Now was no time for thoughts like those. His number one objective was to reach those buildings, warm up, and radio the survivors. If Zulu-Nine was still watching them, he could even radio for help. Though he was still pissed off with Command, furious even. But survival always came first, meaning he'd have to put his reservations against Command aside. And who knows? Maybe they'd let Unity go home after all of this? It would be the least they could do as a reward for survival against all odds. They might even get a medal, a heroes celebration, and then they'd be honorably discharged to go live a comfortable life in veterans retirement? That would all be the front for it, really Command would give them that just to shut them up about the whole situation. They'd probably have to sign some contract saying they'd never speak of what happened to anybody. Hezekiah wasn't sure if he was comfortable with that though. He'd be living his life a liar, and that would hurt him more than anything here could. And what if someone found out and leaked the news? Then he'd be a war criminal on top of it all. Would everybody see him as a soldier who fell from grace, only they didn't know that it because he was ignorant of the full details of the mission. Something that Command deliberately hid just so he'd carry it out?

What would become of the men he considered friends? Quinn? Lafayette? Brian? Flint? What'd happen to them? He hoped to God that they wouldn't blame him, though he couldn't be angry if they did. He should've known. As soon as Temetet said that something was wrong, he should've stopped the whole mission right then and there! He should've listened! And now look... he was a war criminal. Arguably one of the easiest titles to avoid gaining. He failed the lowest bar possible. And now his team would suffer because of it.

Those thoughts raged in his mind, distracting Hezekiah from the cold. Fury burning so intense in his heart that it seemed to combat the freezing winter around him. Deep in his thoughts with reality out of the picture. Hezekiah went from freezing, to on the brink of heartbreak as he realized how fucked Unity was. It might've been less painful if they all drowned in the river. Hezekiah briefly contemplated suicide by weather. Just sitting here and letting himself freeze to death, but as frightened as he was of his own future, death was even scarier. And besides, he kinda had a family at home. Sorta. His mom for one would cry her eyes out for him. His uncle... he probably would've just said, 'I told ya so, ya dumb idiot'. And then what kind of a leader would he have been if he just abandoned Unity like that? They probably wouldn't know that Hezekiah deliberately froze himself to death, but even still it would've been a move of a coward. He wasn't completely sure what happened after death, but Hezekiah knew that if he did that then there'd be nothing good waiting for him in the end. Abandoning the people who'd sacrifice their lives for him, the people who trusted and respected him. It was like leaving a puppy out to die. But instead, an entire squad full of Human beings. And elves too. He couldn't do that, he wouldn't.

Ironically, he looked up to Brian now...

Hezekiah knew Brian was terrified of battle. Scared shitless. Far too young to even hold a gun. Brian was barely old enough to vote, let alone fight in a secret war on another fucking planet! And what does Brian do? He faces his fears and does what he's told when the team needs him. He was initially let down by Brian at the battle of Ithaca, but on the boat chase, Brian earned Hezekiah's respect. Not to mention, Hezekiah owes his life to him now. Staff Sergeant Hezekiah Brooks had to face his fears like a real leader does, that is what was expected of him! He led the squad, and he'd die with them too. But that didn't stop the feelings of fear and regret from entering his heart. Quinn said it best, "How am I supposed to sleep with that shit on my mind?". He now knew what he meant. Hezekiah wouldn't have a peaceful nights rest in a long time. Even though he knew it wasn't technically his fault. But at the same time, It was all his doing. Innocent blood on his hands now... would he even want to go back to Earth after that? Would he be able to integrate into society and function normally with that shit weighing down on his chest like an elephant was sitting on him? He heard stories of Vets flipping out of control and going on rampages after they came back home. Would he end up like one of them? And even if he didn't go all crazy, what about his men? All of these questions and not a single answer in sight.

The Warrior Elf Mother warned him that this journey would be hard. But in the end, it would either be his heaven or his hell. And it was definitely leaning more towards the latter. Had he fucked up? Was his fate now decided in some cosmic fairytale that orchestrates the universe? His life was written away and sentenced to one of suffering. And to think he had only just arrived... to think he had so much to look forward to...

He kept moving...

He came in front of a building about the size of a farmhouse. After checking the windows for any signs of life and finding none, he positioned himself at the front door and used the full weight of his body to break in. The door popped straight off its hinges, and he found himself nearly falling over himself as he stumbled inside.

The room he found himself in was a storage room of sorts. Barrels and chests full of what he guessed were goods and equipment were stored on wooden shelves. The entire building must've just been a warehouse. The main thing he noticed was the warmth of the room. His eyes darted around like the eyes of a child who was searching for their parents. He searched for the source of the heat, his numb toes guiding him slowly to the sound of crackling and the feeling of warmth. Eventually, he found the source of the heat. A nice brick fireplace with an iron gate covering the actual inferno. Hezekiah fell to his knees in front of the fire, melting both figuratively and literally. The ice that managed to form on his clothes began to drip and melted off of him, and his body warmed up. Now if he could just stay here and regather his thoughts...

The first idea that came into his mind was Unity. He thought of the willpower that Unity had to keep fighting despite the odds, how they all came together as a squad to fight for their survival. Recollections of the Warrior Elves who split heads open and his marines who fought like cornered animals. He remembered how Brian saved him, managing to shoot and kill a target directly behind Hezekiah with eagle accuracy. How far had that bullet missed him by? Judging by how close that Iscariot was to killing Hezekiah guillotine style, that bullet couldn't have missed by much. If Brian was off by just a little extra, Hezekiah wouldn't be alive right now. And if he didn't have the courage to take the shot at all, Hezekiah still would've been dead. Brian was strange... really strange. At the end of the day, he was a scared kid. And who the hell could blame him? But whenever the situation called for it, he knuckled up. Hezekiah would have to thank him later... that is if he survived...

"Aya, vort e mala!"

Hezekiah's ears picked up the sound of the Iscariot language. While he wasn't knowledgeable at all in terms of the different languages in the area, he knew for a fact that this came from an Iscariot. The accents that the Warrior Elves and the Iscariots had were very noticeable, and the voices weren't familiar at all. Hezekiah grabbed his rifle again, now warmed up a little bit. He moved to a window that led outside, and he saw that he was indeed correct. Two Iscariots had hopped off of a carriage and were looking around. One was a rabbit... or a hare? Hezekiah never understood what the difference between the two was. Either way, it had brown fur, long ears, and wore clothing that didn't look military in utility. A thick red coat covered the torso, while a long black skirt donned the bottom. It stopped just at the calves, where Hezekiah could see thick boots and winter pants.

The other Iscariot was dressed in much the same way, though it wore a colorful dress with a winter coat covering the torso. It was a blue avian. Bright and colorful feathers were visible on the head. Hezekiah breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that neither of them looked military. Just two civilians looking around, just seeing what the ruckus was all about. Probably hearing the explosion, they came to investigate what the source was and to see if everyone was alright. But when they split up, the bird going into the building across from Hezekiah, and the hare going into his building, his mind raced to the conclusion that they were in fact guards searching for him and the rest of Unity, or at the very least workers who would quickly report his presence to some authority. He thought of what to do, racking his brain for a plan. But it would come far too late as he heard the sound of another door leading into his building swing open.

The hare was silent. Clearly, it was searching for something. It confirmed in Hezekiah's mind that this was indeed a worker or guard at the facility. He ducked into cover behind a storage shelf. He could try to fight the hare, but the noise from his gun would certainly attract the attention of the bird and anyone else in the vicinity. And then what? Was he gonna have a shootout against an entire city? He could hide and try to run, but Hezekiah wasn't in any good shape to move quickly. His clothes were still dripping wet and his equipment was heavy and clunky. He could take off his vest. But the Hare would most certainly notice it. Besides, taking his vest off would generate far too much noise and would take too long. The only option then was to fight, but silently. He felt around his body and his hands traced the outline of a knife sheathed on his leg. Grabbing hold of its base, he yanked it out.

He debated the idea of going on the offensive in this situation. If he could get the drop on the hare he would most certainly hold the advantage. But then he remembered that for all he knew, this was still a civilian, and his morality had already been put under question enough for one day. As long as he could avoid detection and wait until either himself or the hare left, he'd consider that a great success.

'Only in self-defense' He thought, lowering his arms. He listened to the sounds of footsteps echo through the room. The hare was coming closer. He had it set in his mind to just wait, quickly moving into an area where he was sure not to be detected, hidden between a shelf and a wall. He would wait as long as it took, and if things went south, he knew how to defend himself. Hopefully, it wouldn't, but Hezekiah became less sure as the Hare was now only a few meters away.

"BANG! BANG! BANG!"

Hezekiah immediately picked up on the sound of gunfire coming from another building in the complex. He resisted the urge to peek his head to look, but judging by the direction of the loud noise, it wasn't coming from the building that the bird had entered. Instead, a third warehouse along the dock. He heard the Hare let out a scared whine, as it hurriedly rushed to the nearest window. It said a few words in a presumably female voice to Hezekiah. He listened both for any sounds coming from her as well as from outside, but his heart sank straight into his stomach as he heard a voice. A voice spoke in clear English.

"ASSHOLES!"

It was Flint. Of course, it was. Flint was the only one who had the tenacity to yell at the top of his lungs a slur in the middle of a firefight. Hezekiah let out a gasp and spoke under his breath, "Oh shit!"

"Eh?" Said the hare. Hezekiah's eyes widened as he realized what he had just done. But he was so quiet! And there was so much noise coming from outside! How could she have heard him?

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

And then he remembered, it was a rabbit! It had ears the size of radar dishes! It could pick up the sound of a mouse farting from a mile away!

He heard the sound of metal clinging against metal from the hare. He knew what that meant, it had a sword or knife of some sort drawn. He put his pistol back onto its holster, instead going for his rifle. She knew where he was now, no point in being quiet about it. Maybe he could try reasoning? If he showed her that he wasn't a threat, she wouldn't be too pissed? But he severely doubted that it would happen. Figuring that he had the advantage in a fight, he burst out of cover, right into view of the hare.

She stumbled backward in surprise, indeed raising a sharp blade that wasn't quite long enough to be a sword but also too long to be a regular knife. It was perhaps a machete of sorts. Up here, Hezekiah could see her features clearer. Brown fur with white secondary color inside the ears. She stood up to his waist, and her entire physique wasn't incredibly threatening to him. Hezekiah now felt even worse fighting her, for not only was she probably a civilian, but she was also less than half his size. Completely non-threatening, at least to him. Even with the machete, she carried.

She yelled a few words out in the Iscariot language, they sounded like questions. Hezekiah pointed his rifle at her, not readying himself to fire but as a warning for her to back down. Though he wasn't sure if it'd work, assuming she didn't know what a gun was, "HEY! HEY! I'M NOT HERE TO HURT YOU!" He yelled back, practically barking at her. The hare's eyes widened, presumably in fear, and Hezekiah in his mind took that as a sign of her backing down from the confrontation. That was all but confirmed when she put her blade away into a holster on her hip.

She whispered a word that sounded very familiar, "Ithakan." Is that what they called the Marines? Ithacans? Hezekiah remembered that their base was named Ithaca, so they probably took it as the name of their country or faction, "Yeah that's right. I'm an Ithacan!" He said, unsure of why he was telling her this in a language she couldn't understand, "I don't wanna shoot you or anything, just shut up and let me get with my squad! Okay?"

"Ithakan." She whispered again. Eerily this time. It caused Hezekiah to take a step backward as he lost the ability to read her emotions. What the hell was she thinking now? Was she planning on attacking again? Were Ithacans the bad guys to these people? Well, after what Unity did... he could see how that could be completely true...

He noticed a red stone on her chest hanging from a chain. A rather beautiful necklace. It became noticeable as she held out her hands. 'Or paws? Paws, definitely,' he thought. He wasn't sure what she was doing. He pulled the safety of his gun, "Hey! Hey, your drop your hands motherfucker! Lower your arms, man! I don't wanna do this!" She didn't stop. The stone began to glow a red color. That stone wasn't regular. It was magic.

A red glow encircled her hands and she made a motion towards Hezekiah that he didn't immediately pick up on. He soon found out when he felt his throat begin to close in on itself in a frightening manner. Like pressure applied around his most crucial body part. His airways were being crushed, choked by whatever magic she was using. His hands let go of his rifle and instinctively went to his neck to free himself, but instead of finding the fingers of someone squeezing his neck, they only pressed against his brown skin.

Hezekiah tried to inhale, but nothing came through. And if it did, it was so little air that he made feeble choking noises, crackling and gargling himself to death. His heart raced even further as he was pushed back by the neck, and slammed into the wall. Then being raised by about a foot or two. All while his throat was being strangled by magic. He felt sweat break out on his forehead, his skin went cold, his heartbeat everywhere in his body. He would die very, very soon if he didn't do anything. Desperately his limbs flailed about trying to find some give, but of course, there was none. He began trying to beg for his life with his strangler, looking into her eyes but all he saw was the eyes of someone scared of him. Besides, he couldn't speak at all now.

He forced his own hand from around his neck, now desperate. He grabbed his pistol from its holster, and without aiming, for he had lost the ability to look downwards, he took a shot, "BANG!" screamed the pistol.

"AH!" The hare let out a pained shriek, and Hezekiah immediately felt the pressure vanish. He fell about two feet, as he landed face-first onto the hard wooden floor. He gasped for air, flopping around like a fish out of water. A massive headache came upon him now, banging hammers against his skull. He panted on the floor as he tried to reset himself. But he knew that he still wasn't out of the fight. He looked at his assailant, the hare. Judging by her position and where the way she was clutching the side of her belly, he had scored a non-critical hit somewhere near her right kidney. She was on her knees, screaming in extreme pain. The red glow now was focused on herself. His muddled brain assumed she was trying to heal the wound, and that was confirmed when he saw the bullet he had fired fall out onto the floor. She knew that she had been hit with a projectile from Hezekiah, though she probably didn't know how exactly. But Hezekiah realized that he was underestimating her knowledge, the Raritans recognized the weapons that the Marines had and correctly identified them as rifles. Obviously, these guys knew what guns were, so instilling fear from ignorance probably wouldn't work for him.

Both of them were down. Hezekiah knew that the hare would try and heal the bullet wound, but how fast would she be able to do that? He forced his mind to refocus as he stood up, pistol in hand. He had one goal in mind now, and it was to send a bullet straight through her skull. A killing blow. The hare knew what he was planning, for she looked up. The healing spell she was working on vanished, the wound not fully healed. Hezekiah felt pain around his neck knowing that his injuries weren't even close to healing. He heaved as moved his finger over the trigger. He pulled it, a red force surrounding the front of the hare materialized before he could pull, and when the gun fired an audible "DING!" rang off the shield. The bullet ricocheted off the shield and buried itself into a wall to his side. He instantly knew that he wasn't going to win this fight just by being a good shot, he'd have to think about what he was doing. Going off of size difference, he should've held the clear advantage. He was twice her size and was wearing his helmet and body armor. He figured that being half-animal though, she'd carry some form of hidden strength that he wasn't aware of. Though, other than hearing and jumping around, he wasn't sure what sort of strength a rabbit would have. But this hare knew what she was doing, that was obvious. He needed to be careful since as much as he wanted her dead, she was set to kill him as well.

Feeling the heat of the fight coming on, Hezekiah made up his mind on a plan while the two sized each other up. He made the first move by throwing a fist at her with his left hand to make her think he was trying to go for a hand-to-hand fight. At the last second, he pulled his fist away and instead brought up his pistol. In Hezekiah's mind, the hare would have too little time to react to the switch and would have her shield down. But when he pulled the trigger, the shield was already up. Either she predicted the fake-out or her reflexes were lightning fast. Either way, his opponent was clearly dangerous and Hezekiah's heart sped up as he began to realize that this wasn't going to be an easy fight at all. Training kicked in, sending him back to his hand-to-hand combat course back in Bootcamp, and the numerous practice rounds the Marines were required to perform afterward. But he hesitated, knowing that hand-to-hand combat would be his greatest disadvantage here. His strength lies in his gun, and abandoning that for fists would be a stupid move.

The hare sensed his moment of hesitation, and sparing no time made a move for his hand carrying the pistol. Her hand-paws took hold of his wrist and she swung her body around that intending to break it. Hezekiah knew this and shifted his weight around her in response to balance the pressure on his arm. He let go of the gun instinctively, immediately regretting his decision and silently cursing his nerves as soon as the metal of the gun tapped on the wooden floor. Now the fight was less so to his advantage, but he could still stay alive here. It was clear that both were set with the intent to kill the other, this wasn't a friendly spar, rather a deathmatch. With no intention of being killed by a discount easter bunny, Hezekiah raised his other fist and landed a solid hit into the side of the hare's face. She let go, reeling from the attack.

He didn't know what kind of magical spells she had access to, but he played enough video games before Bootcamp to know that magical force against human bodies usually ended in death. Fearing his blood getting boiled, or something worse, he lunged forward to keep her distracted. He didn't expect to get a solid hit, rather, keep her away from using her magic which was readily available. The hare looked up just in time to see Hezekiah's haymaker descending, and she moved out of the way just before impact. He bounced back, now aiming to snatch the chain off from around her neck, essentially disarming her, and he threw a jab, which to his dismay, she caught, and in the process, she managed to score a light punch straight into Hezekiah's kisser. As his head recoiled back, she used his arm as a tether and pulled herself close to him, grabbing onto his rear shoulder blade and the back of his neck--forcing him to bend over forwards. Hezekiah tried to fight it, but the hold was incredibly strong. She circled him, maintaining the hold, and with Hezekiah's head down far enough, she threw her leg over the back of his neck and pushed down hard.

Hezekiah's body flipped straight over, and he fell onto the ground with a loud thud. That was a professional move, she was an expert at this, erasing any doubt he had about her abilities. He was dazed and completely knocked out of his wits. Close to seeing stars, he barely noticed when she raised a foot, ready to stomp Hezekiah's lights out. Luckily, he had the decent sense to roll out of the way just as her foot slammed down onto the floor. He shook his head, trying to unscramble his brain. Everything was moving in slow motion for him, and yet it was all going so fast. Lightning reflexes now kicking in, he successfully attempted a leg swipe from the rear, kicking her calves inwards with his shin causing her to fall backward. Her head nearly bouncing off of the floor as she came down. With his gun out of the question, Hezekiah moved to his knife. Holding the knife with a grip tight enough to choke a bear to death, but to weaken her, he decided to go for a stomp of his own. Slamming his boot into her chest, she writhed in pain. She let out a shriek filled with agony and her head jerked up as the air escaped from the depths of her lungs. Figuring his opponent was done for, he threw the blade down at her with the intent of ramming it into her face. But she once again caught his hands, though her hold was considerably weaker and she was moving much slower. So was he in fact, up until now, he hadn't realized that every single muscle in his body was screaming for him to stop. He was already tired after swimming in freezing cold water and then nearly catching hypothermia while walking a quarter-mile. And as if that wasn't bad enough, the expertly executed holds that the hare locked him in should've been enough to knock him out. But his helmet was still on, and his body armor absorbed a lot of the impact. Had it not been for that gear, he'd have been a dead man a long time ago. But the present presented more punishment for him, as the hare rolling her body upwards with his knife-carrying hand still in her clutch. Hezekiah watched as her lower half moved up, legs curled, and when her feet were visible, they sprung upwards. Her boots shot at Hezekiah's face.

When the impact came, Hezekiah didn't even feel any pain. His hearing went out, his eyes faded to black, and his body fell backward. He landed against the wall with his head slamming against it. The pain came a split second later, and his face was on fire. Hearing nothing but ringing, he checked his face to see what was wrong. The entire front of his face had exploded into a ball of pure pain and he felt warmness streaming down all of it. When his hands came back up to his now barely open eyes, he knew exactly what was wrong. His gloves were stained red just by touching his face. She had broken his nose. Hezekiah felt pain in his mouth as well, moving his tongue over that he noticed two missing teeth at the front of his jaw. He should have been knocked out cold from that. Hell, that single kick had enough force to kill a man, let alone make one fall unconscious. How the hell was Hezekiah still in this? For the time being, he was essentially out of the fight, as the pain was near paralyzing. Tears escaped his eyes as the burning and sting of the broken nose infiltrated his mind. It wasn't even fair to call it broken at this point, the bone was powder by now. It shattered.

Watery eyes gazed upon his opponent who was also still on the floor. Blood spewed from her mouth as well, but she was very much still alive. He briefly wondered about how hard his stomp was figuring he at least broke a few ribs, before answering the calls of his own pain. He let out a muffled cry. His mind-melting back into pink sludge, spewing out of his nose in red blood. His hearing dulled again, and his head swirled around losing its balance. His sense of coordination had been thrown completely off, and everything in his head was ablaze with a pain that seemed to scathe him worse than every migraine he had ever had combined. Not good at all. Hezekiah knew that he was experiencing all of the signs of trauma, but could do nothing about it as the pain turned every second into a living nightmare. He faintly heard some voices, figuring that they hallucinations. Trying to regain his balance, he somehow managed to shakily get to his feet. He had no idea how he had to strength to lift himself. That single kick should've killed him. But here he was. And the hare was rising to her feet too.

Suddenly the pained dulled. Instead, burning hatred for the hare in front of him boiled inside of his soul. He reached for the knife, and she looked at him. Spitting blood away on the floor. She was good, he'll admit. But here, he'll prove he was better.

He let out a loud and intimidating yell as he charged at her. Adrenaline pumping into his blood made him forget that he was a victim of brain injury. A second wind came over him, and he could see it rise in the hare as well. He raised the knife, and she raised her machete. They swung both at the other, his knife clung against her machete with a loud 'CHING!'. He spun around to face his adversary again, adrenaline controlling him, he swung at her arm carrying the machete. He managed to slice her arm once, though the cut was barely deeper than the skin. Another quick swipe from his knife, this time under her arm was slightly deeper, and her hand went limp. He went for the neck, but with her good arm, she parried the attack. Hezekiah caught her hand with the hope of bringing her in with a clothesline. Instead, she hopped into the air and kicked him straight into the chest which should've broken a few ribs of his own. The rabbit's strength lay in her legs, which should've been obvious to him from the jump.

Instead of letting go, Hezekiah held onto her wrist, and as he fell backward, she did too. Both landed on their backs in tremendous pain, knives pointed at the other head. The voices got louder, Hezekiah thinking the adrenaline was wearing away. He felt the fatigue return, and the pain enveloped him again. He wondered what the hare felt as she too stared at him. The two held their knives over each others' throats while they were on the floor. Neither moved. Hezekiah coughed up more blood, but even that didn't stop him. She looked terrible. Cuts on her arm rendered it useless, the bullet wound from earlier was leaking, and her mouth and throat were painted red. But even that didn't stop her. They held this position. Both of them would die here in this position, with their final moments being knives held in an act of defiance against the other. That was guaranteed. Hezekiah felt his soul slip away. His eyes wandered. The hare's eyes wandered.

Sleep was on his mind now. He should rest now. It was a good run and a good ending. This wasn't that bad of death. He'd have died fighting. Literally. And figuratively. And that was pretty badass if he allowed himself to stroke his own ego for the final moments of his life. He felt it all slip away. Unable to grasp why he ended up here. He wondered if the face of the hare was starting to transform into the face of God, he couldn't tell anymore. It all seemed so dark.

A light opened up, followed by shadowy figures and the echoes of voices. Hezekiah didn't know what they were saying. He didn't really care either. Now was a good time to get some shut-eye. An eternal rest, at least it was well deserved. At least he went down with his fists up.

His eyes closed.

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

"Wow," said Mirrorface. He turned to Hezekiah, "You know... I watched that whole thing. You really should've died much earlier in that but... to say I'm impressed would be an understatement."

"So what now?" Hezekiah asked, still in his uniform though with all the equipment gone. It was just his standard MARPAT battle dress. He didn't even have a helmet on. No injuries or anything.

"Well you aren't quite dead yet," Mirrorface told him, "My employers were wholly expecting that you'd be of no use. But I held my ground and argued that you have a passion in you that would be quite valuable... they said that a mere human wouldn't be able to fulfill their needs. Thank you for proving them wrong, and for that, I will continue to... arrange things in a fashion perhaps a bit more favorable. Hm?"

Hezekiah looked at him. He looked exactly the same. His clothing, white pants, black boots, black jacket. No face. Just a glass panel with curves that reflected everything at him. Despite them being in a void surrounded by darkness, Hezekiah saw galaxies reflected back to him. Galaxies being raised and destroyed, worlds being formed and torn apart, stars ignite and then explode into a billion different colors that shouldn't exist and yet it all felt so natural. And so alien. He saw trillions being born and die in the blink of any eye. This is what the creature must've been seeing. And out of those trillions, here it was speaking directly to him.

"You have more work to do. You haven't quite gotten through the acceptance process, my employers were... surprised. But now they want to see some real work getting done. Humans have a very fragile life, so please make my job easy. It'd be very unfortunate if I had to... nudge the universe to keep one soul alive," Mirrorface said to him in his snake-like voice. It sounded kind of like waves crashing against the shore and the grinding of sandpaper. It sounded so unnatural, "If I have to intervene to keep you alive, then we can expect some serious unforeseen consequences. That would quite unfortunate for both you and myself. So I beg of you, don't die," It said.

Hezekiah wanted to ask more questions. But he couldn't. Or he didn't. He wasn't sure if he still even had his free will or if he was just Mirrorface's plaything. A marionette that was forced into motion by a puppeteer. It scared him deeply to conclude that some cosmic entity was not only interacting with him... but was essentially in charge of his life. He had no idea who he was serving anymore. Country? Or a cosmic space entity? And what the hell was it planning? He was so confused, left in the dark about everything. It wasn't fair. Why him? Hadn't he suffered enough yet?

"As for, Cathy. I have plans for her too. In fact, I have many others at my... disposal. Many such as yourself. You will meet a lot of them in the very near future. But as for now, you'll do just fine filling your role. Goodbye Staff Sergeant Brooks, hm?" It said. Hezekiah didn't know who Cathy was. His mind was racing too fast to even fully register what the Mirrorface had said to him. He was being sucked back out, sent flying upwards.

He found himself drifting to the surface of the water, all over again.

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