Chapter 108: Route
They panted as they continued at their fervent pace, slipping and bursting between the trees as best they could, slowed and encumbered by their armament that they desperately needed to bring to the pack. With just sheer numbers, the settlement may fall. It was a hopeless endeavour in most circumstances, but Scarlet had faith in the master. Faith in his decisions.
Faye was holding up well—considering the load she was burdened with—her time tending and caring for the wolves encouraging an additionally active routine. Her breathing was laboured, but her eyes remained focused, and Scarlet couldn’t help but feel that the dark gold-furred female was equally as worried about the wolf pup as she was everything else they sought to return to.
Regardless of motivations, they hurried, foregoing breaks or rest. It was only when the shouts and cries of battle pierced the dense foliage that they were reassured it wasn’t too late.
The walls came into view, encroached and scaled by the enemy in droves, bodies of scattered fallen giving pause to those of the incursion. She fought back the snarl, forced her paw away from the weapons she carried, and continued on, searching for a path where neither would be noticed. She could dispatch quite a number of them, but such would be useless if those within the confines of the settlement perished while she was occupied outside of it.
There. A sliver of inactivity with a direct path to the barn. She might not have noticed it if not for Faye abruptly altering course to approach it. They slipped past those less willing to storm the defences, both tilting an ear to catch the snippet of conversation for any information of importance.
Mutterings of the unwilling reached her senses. Words of doubt.
A female protected her stomach as she voiced a teary desire for the violence to end, unknowing as to why they must force their reign on those who had kept to themselves. Her mate comforted her, more concerned with keeping an eye out for allies who might take issue with her dissidence than a potential enemy. His soft apologies for his weakness slipped from his lips as he held her, wet lamentation for the inability to solely provide since their den was slaughtered—submitting was their only path to survival.
So Hasen’s rule was not as ironclad as assumed, but such was not outside of expectations. Once, she may have disregarded it, but the master’s nature had shifted her view. He would seek them safe within his walls. Wish no harm, and receive kindness.
The nearly silent sound of ground ‘peppermint’ within a fragile leaf was disrupted as it broke open on the couple, earning confused whispers from the two. They would be identified and taken in, should they survive. The act of doing such had come without proper reasoning, though she felt it right, regardless of the sigh she gave. She was getting soft.
Scarlet smirked, silently chastising herself as she vaulted the wall. The light tint to her mood plummeted, and the first sight of the settlement set her fur on edge.
Though there were no active fires, smoke floated and lingered around doused cinder, proof of temporary ignition staining the otherwise pristine silvers of the buildings, blackening the surfaces. Plasma rounds flashed and strobed rapidly in various pathways, closing in on the den and barracks.
The pack was pushed back severely.
Scarlet paused, surveying her options and where she should go first. Faye stared at where her wolves should lay, the building strangely untouched—though it would make sense if occupation was planned after the assault. A look between them was exchanged, a silent request made known. Scarlet nodded.
Faye tore off to the barn, pausing belatedly to strip her vest of armament and tossing it to her dark red-furred other. A look of pain and determination offered reason.
“I must confirm.”
The senior Wraith stared, gritting her teeth as muscles groaned their protest under the added weight. She unclipped a pistol and a spare battery, holding it out to the gold-furred female expectantly. Smiling briefly, Faye accepted, tucking it into one of the many pouches of her armour. Without further word, she disappeared into the darkness. Scarlet eyed the path forward and took to the rooftops.
She followed the signs of combat, tilting her advance towards the nearest conflict she could reach. Without an AMR, all she could hope to do from any reasonable distance is watch, so she kicked off walls and skidded to a stop at the edge of a workplace, too concerned with the enemy to note which.
Four adorned in armour and materials foreign in making suppressed two of the pack. A glimmer of heavy metal armour and a massive axe was all the identification she needed, but the mark lingering in the air confirmed it. Head Jax knelt behind a hastily constructed barrier, loading and firing his crossbow wantonly to repel the invaders, but his supplies rapidly depleted. The male next to him clutched an arrow wound in his shoulder, dangerously close to his neck.
The attackers advanced carefully, snarling and alternating between using their pitiful bows and the singular rifle assigned to the unit, stepping forward between Jax’s returned fire. Scarlet positioned herself carefully, removing her paw from the CARD she previously selected. She could remove these four without using it and save the ammunition.
Laying the two vests on the rooftop, she rolled her shoulders to loosen the strain built upon them, jumping from building to building until she was directly above her target. She pulled the knife that the master had given her, lining up the sequence in her head and smirking. She stepped forward, letting the foot rest in the air before plummeting as she walked off the edge.
Feet landed on shoulders, blade pierced temple, and she pushed off the foe before they even noticed that they had passed, driving her knee into the second of the onslaught. Her paw wrapped around the muzzle, silencing the grunt of surprise as she rode the falling form to the ground. The dagger pulled cleanly from their rib cage.
The third noticed her, inhaling to alert the fourth of her presence. Her knife whistled slightly as it flew, embedding itself into them and ending the attempt before it began. The fourth heard the crumpling forms of their allies and the quiet scuff of dirt as she launched herself forward.
A rifle spun, brought to bear against the Wraith, Scarlet’s claw slipping behind the trigger. She could see the reflection of her moss-wolf mask in his widened pupils, fear overtaking them as they stared at an agent of the Void. She saw the grin that extended past the skull, and the light fading as she carefully let their body fall off her weapon, the rifle staying in her paws. A crossbow thumped its release, her blade shifting up to deflect the bolt. The black-furred male widened his narrow eyes, laughing and falling to his haunches.
“Forgive me, Wraith,” Head Jax huffed. His paw clutched his leg as he leaned over to inspect his pack-mate. “There are other areas in need of you. Go.”
Scarlet nodded, walking over to deposit the rifle into his lap before fetching the rest of her armament to distribute. She stopped at the rooftop near him.
“Is the master back?”
Jax glanced up, his eyes focusing through the exhaustion as he shook his head. “Scarlet, you have returned. I thank you for your assistance. No, he has yet to arrive. Did you speak with the soldiers?”
She held out a vest laden with weapons. “They were able to offer little, but it will suffice.”
He nodded, waving her off with his paw. He grunted as he pushed himself to his feet, wrapping an arm around the other male and supported their weight. His limp ruined the effect somewhat. “I will bring this one for aid.”
Scarlet listened to the ambience, hearing an unusual amount of shouting free of weapons fire. Confirming the Head was well enough despite his obvious injury, and unlikely to be struck down before he could seek treatment, she took off towards the noise.
Several searching attackers were spread thinly through the settlement, making for quick work as she progressed. Given that they were sweeping the back alleys, it meant that much of what was established had been pushed. Even the triage unit that Milow and her pack were assigned to work at was vacant—plasma scorching the walls. Her chest tightened as she wondered if Volta was assigned to the clinic or the den, the odd sensation distracting her as she over-shot her destination and needed to back-track. A breath banished her concerns.
She was a tool. All that mattered was the master and her orders. There was no time for inner conflicts.
The voices grew louder, deviating from declarations of war and taking the form of frustrations. She ended up a few rooftops away from the source. A group of the enemy was hacking away at the rear of a den using swords, chips of ironwood having slowly given way to the abuse. It was odd that they sought to enter a random building—especially since it was a new construction yet to be furnished—but it was hardly a concern. They were distracted, and that made her task quite simple.
The robust structure was a departure from the typical, if only because it was suggested to be an Atmo residence—or at least an entrance to a subterranean equivalent that had yet to be started. It brought to mind that many of the Atmo kits may have been redirected to take shelter there, and possibly the young mistress.
She had moved before it fully registered what she was doing.
Her paw gripped the skull of the first, slamming their muzzle into the wall and rendering the male unconscious. Six more. A pistol was pulled from her burden, levelled at the head of the only ranged unit. A crack and jolt in her paws silenced another. Five. She ducked, pushing backward from the missed swing of a sword, kicking to her side to unsteady another. Two jolts. Two flashes. Three left. One lunged for the discarded rifle. Her aim adjusted, her paw tightened. The form fell lifeless. Two more.
The last pair rushed her, one throwing their weapon to discourage her. She brought the pistol up, standing still while the weapon’s spin caused it to harmlessly roll over her shoulder. One shot. One left.
The remaining female faltered, staring at the Wraith as she fell to her knees, the will to fight stripped from her soul. Her sword clattered to the ground, tears falling over her cheeks. “Please don’t.”
Scarlet aimed her weapon, her ear twitching at a new presence. The voice called to her from above.
“You have returned, Scarlet.”
“Raine,” she greeted flatly, gaze fixed on her target. “Where is Kaslin?”
The brown-furred Wraith dropped to her side, bowing in deference to her senior. Blood was splattered across her armour, solidifying the visage of death. For all the scent masking, there was no hiding the hint of heat that came from their work. “She is—”
A distant explosion lit the sky a deep orange, fading as quick as it arrived. Raine drew her eyes back to the question, amusement slipping into her lilt.
“—was dealing with improvised mortars. She should be returning soon.”
Scarlet nodded, keeping her weapon steady. “Yourself? The settlement is in quite the state.”
Raine bowed again. “Apologies. My focus was on thinning the numbers of those armed with plasma-casters approaching the walls.”
“And?”
“I am but a single Wraith, though that does not excuse my lack of effectiveness. Please report it to the master for my punishment.”
The dark red-furred female recalled the voices of uncertainty and fear that refused to encroach. The fallen that made others question their actions. “No, I would say you have performed well. Many are reconsidering their loyalty.”
“Thank you.”
“Here,” she started with a breath, holding out the spare vest. “Equip yourself with one of your choosing and distribute the rest. What is the status of the settlement?”
Raine accepted the armament, taking a CARD and a spare battery before donning everything for transport. “Of course. As for the status, most have been pushed back to the den. Head Nalah and her unit had been locked down by the walls from two fronts, but they had held the position well enough that the enemy was gathering to dispose of her.”
“The den?”
“Several have taken to the roof to suppress the attackers, but they press with every moment.”
Scarlet’s face tightened beneath the mask. “Head Jax is on his way there. Are the rest of the Heads still alive?”
There was a beat of silence. “Head Harrow is unaccounted for, but the others are lightly injured at worst.”
The lightness in her chest surprised her, but was promptly placed aside for the time being. “Harrow was placed at the den, no?”
Raine shifted on her feet, uneasy. “She sought to assist her mate. I provided her with the smoke compound to fabricate a distraction, but I could not be separated from my other duties for long.”
“...Perished?”
“Unknown.”
Scarlet exhaled slowly. “Go. Distribute the weapons.”
“Of course, Scarlet.”
She waited for Raine to leave before crouching in front of the broken female, tipping her jaw up with the pistol. “Why were your kin seeking entry into this den?”
Babbling wrought with fear and hopelessness was her response. Scarlet drove the weapon into her throat, finally earning something coherent. “We were tasked with retrieving an orange-furred female! Please don’t kill me.”
Harrow? “And your quarry took refuge inside?”
The female nodded urgently, eyes flicking between the skull mask and paw holding the gun to her throat. “The entry was locked by one of the insects embedding its blades into the frame. We thought it quicker to break down the wall than hack through the corpse.”
Scarlet blinked, her tone flat and quiet. “Corpse?”
“Y-yes,” she stammered. “The thing is massive. Possibly the biggest we had seen. It took many rounds to dispatch it.”
“Blue?” An affirmative was returned. Scarlet stood, nodding and letting her arm fall to her side. “I see.”
“Will you let me go?”
The amber glow of her eyes catching the moonlight rimmed the sockets of the moss-wolf skull mask. “For answering my queries, of course.”
The female cried her gratitude, thanking the manifestation of demise before her as she stood. She wasted no time breaking into a sprint, tears of relief streaming down her face. A flash. The body crumpled and crashed to the dirt, a smile of hope still present as smoke listed from the hole, the female freed of the torture that was life with positive emotions being the last she felt.
Scarlet didn’t remember being so kind.
She was going soft.
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Pan brought her bracers up, directing the impact through her arms and into her legs. The sword bit into her armour, but countless sessions with Tel and sparring with Violet made the effort trivial. Her immediate instinct was to fire out a straight to distract, then work in her usual kicks to dismantle their defences, but something...pulled within her. Familiar. Welcome. It instructed her.
She obeyed.
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Her foot shot out, catching their knee before levelling a second leg to their chest and kicking again to shove the attacker away. They stumbled over the roots and bushes before falling backwards, giving her time to turn when the sound of a taut bowstring caught her attention.
She ducked, tucking her ear and spinning on her pads as an arrow whipped past, digging her feet into the dirt to burst forward. She closed the distance, a second projectile thumping against her left bracer, her right deploying its blade as her fist pushed into flesh. The tip of the hidden weapon pierced through the enemy’s chest, peeking out the back.
She pulled her arm back and retracted it, letting the form fall limp. A glance over her shoulder caught the first assailant being picked off by a plasma round coming from somewhere in the forest.
“You have a death wish,” Sunundra hissed, lowering her CARD as her potential target was removed before she could get a shot off, stomping up to the white-furred female. “Never charge into a fight like that, and never turn your back on an enemy.”
Pan tilted her head, nodding to accept the advice as the Grand Huntress huffed before continuing onward. She looked down at her dress, saddened by the fact that it was stained and ruined. There was a deep guilt that came from being directly involved in two more deaths, though those were hardly the first since the group had approached the settlement. This was the second patrol that they had dispatched.
As soon as the walls became visible, Joseph wished to rush to everyone’s aid, but the sheer number of foes spread around made that suicidal at best. At Tel and Sunundra’s insistence, they began circling and searched for a section of the perimeter that was less densely populated. It was lucky that such a space actually existed, but that was not to say that there was absolutely no one in between them and their goal.
Joseph walked out from the bushes from dealing with his own foe, a darkened expression matching her own worn on his face. Or perhaps it was hers that was a mirror; as the feelings grew more intense, it became difficult to distinguish which were from the bond. All she knew was that more than half of her soul was given to the two that shared the same goal as her. The same purpose.
Despite the Grand Huntress’ claims, she had not left an enemy unattended, regardless of how it looked. Tel was in the trees, and Pan had just given her a clear shot. It was the natural thing to do, even if she couldn’t actually locate her other at the moment. Something just...told her the correct course of action. It felt natural. Right. As if using one’s paw to grip at an object, it was an extension of herself. Once the enemy was sent tumbling, it fell into the nebulous grasp of another, and thus did not require her attention, freeing her to deal with the second threat.
“You okay?” her mate asked quietly. He had seen the quick work made of the patrol, but still he worried for her—even when their territory was as perilous as it was. She offered a small smile and a nod, feeling his mixture of disgust, guilt, and sorrow that a life had to be taken. There was an empty portion as well, a division that she knew was present, but not passed to herself. It was...strange, but not worrying, oddly enough.
He returned the expression woodenly. “Let’s get moving.”
She followed after him, noting his eyes lingering on the wall of the settlement and the plasma rounds soaring over the barricade every now and then. Hope and fear tangled underneath the surface, shadowed by determination and the missing drive. Joseph made a point of not looking at the newly fallen as they passed.
They approached Sunundra peeking around a tree, her CARD held at low ready as her ears pivoted. They were closer now—just at the edge of the long clearing bordering the settlements—but even once they passed the obscuring treeline, they still needed to climb the walls. It shouldn’t be too much trouble, but it would leave them in the open. The Grand Huntress eased two claws off her weapon in a subtle gesture to be patient.
“One,” she whispered, tightening her grip. Her voice turned to a mutter. “Of all the times I wished for my equipment.”
“Blowing everything to the Void sounds fun, but can we not do that to my den?” Joseph retorted dryly. Though the glare he got in return was probably due to his casual tone, he did keep his volume in mind. The pale-furred female’s expression softened.
“Calm, Joseph?”
His face told a different story, hardened and focused. “We need to hurry.”
“It would be best if we—”
“—Move,” Tel interjected, ignoring the weapon snapped in her direction. The Wraith wiped off the remains of blood on her dagger, shrugging to adjust the Anti-Material Rifle on her back. “The patrol has been dealt with, but there are always more. We should begin.”
Sunundra lowered the gun, moving back the step she had taken between the grey-furred female and the Human. A glance over her shoulder met the same concentrated gaze fixed on the settlement, the male not outwardly acknowledging the additional death. Even Pan was slightly taken aback by how each weighed less and less on him.
She couldn’t help but feel like he would need time after everything was over to think about the moon, but for now, he had made his decision; between the life of his pack and another’s, there was no question who’s blood he would rather his paws stained with.
“Tel, go on ahead. Sun, Pan, we’ll move up. Once Tel makes sure we’re fine, we’ll climb.”
The Wraith moved without question or hesitation, Sunundra raising a claw pointlessly to delay the order. Exhaling, she silenced herself, accepting the fact of the matter as Tel disappeared as quickly as she had arrived. The pale-furred female looked back at the other two with annoyance before dismissing her complaints—not that Joseph waited for any. He marched onward, his gaze scanning through the moonlit clearing for danger, Pan walking by his side.
Due to luck or simply good timing, they reached their goal with only hints of activity within their view, distant shouts and gunfire being the only thing meeting their senses. Pan stayed vigilant, the odd feeling of purpose increasing with every moment she remained just beyond her territory. Just out of reach of her pack. Her duty.
A quiet whistle sounded from the top of the wall. Joseph crouched with his back to the tall wooden structure, lacing his claws and holding them in front of him. Pan didn’t need an explanation for the posture—where humans suffered in their ability to dig into materials with claws for leverage when climbing, they had developed many other methods. She took a step back before bolting towards him, stepping on his paws and being launched upwards, kicking into the ironwood barricade to gain the last bit of height she needed.
Looking into the settlement stoked a flame within her.
They were attacking in force. Attacking her territory. Her pack. Those under her protection.
The curled lip revealed her teeth, a growl working from her throat. She tore her eyes from the slight against her and leaned over the wall, extending her arm. Thankfully, Sunundra caught on and had taken a similar stance as Joseph did, allowing him to perform the same boost. Grabbing Pan’s paw and getting over the edge with the assistance. The Grand Huntress clipped her CARD to her hip and just barely reached high enough for the two to haul her up.
Situated on the walkways, they could move forward.
Due to the circumventing required, they had come into the area at a strange location—far from the major defensive positions, but not terribly out of the way. It gave them a clear view of the conflict taking place nearby.
Be it luck or circumstance, they had entered near where Nalah and a few of the pack were tucked between structures—the Head and another wielding rifles that they used to fire out against an increasing flank of enemies, the multi-sided front closing in on them. Joseph’s fear spiked when return fire forced them out of sight to take cover, but it was quickly replaced by surprise and awe.
Rose stormed out of the alley, most of the unit carried upon her base. That alone would be shocking, but the part that left the three of them questioning their sanity was what the pack was doing atop it.
Shields were lined off to act as additional armour for the carriage, Nalah holding onto the Atmo’s shoulder with one paw while firing the plasma-caster with the other. The second gunman of the group peered over the improvised moving defence, taking careful shots at any who gathered their wits at the sight. It was quickly followed by another insect in a similar arrangement—sans the heavy iron armour.
It was quite the sight to behold. More so when the blond-furred female howled like a feral animal, snarling and shouting as Rose charged straight into the scrambling enemy, the Atmo’s blades making quick work of any frozen by the savage display. Those that did have the mind to flee were met with violent attacks, only the silver shimmer suggesting Kaslin was performing crowd-control.
A male stumbled backwards from the rampaging violence, raising his weapon. A wisp of silver, a deafening crack, and the male fell lifeless, their weapon quickly captured by the same whip that ended him. A moving shadow deposited the item upon the back of Rose, and another stream of plasma joined the central firing platform as it pushed through the routing forces.
“Have I ever mentioned that I love Nalah?” Joseph asked, a grin plastered to his face. Pan let the wonder and positive emotion wash over her; it was a momentary reprieve from the more dour experience, and he welcomed it as much as she did. Sunundra, however, struggled to close her muzzle, her jaw dropped at the display.
“I somehow hope the rest of your pack is as insane as she is.”
Joseph’s mood dropped at the reminder of their situation, his eyes flicking to the den—the other conflict in progress.
“Me too.”
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Due to the progression of the assault, Sunundra was able to move towards Joseph’s den with him and Pan without much in the way of resistance, the few confrontations they did have ending swiftly.
Though she wasn’t familiar with the layout of the settlement, her companions were, and both made quick work pathing to their destination, the scent of anxiousness radiating from the Human in the group. It increased as they drew near, ducking along the walls of one of the structures with a view to the den. Unfortunately, the sight did nothing for their hopes—even if it did curiously mute the scent that Joseph has been inundating her senses with.
“Please let them be okay,” he whispered. The volume suggested that he was mostly saying it to himself, but the tone almost struck her as a prayer; a ‘Guardian’ wishing to be heard by his moniker, if not the Hunt Mother herself. Sunundra found herself repeating the same request to the voiceless goddess that failed to answer her before, only to acquiesce in the strangest manner.
“They will be,” Pan returned, grabbing his paw reassuringly, though her expression carried the same pain. The Grand Huntress almost wanted to ask where the confidence came from, but a sliver of grey fur caught her eye as it dropped from the rooftops to the back of the den, followed by two of what she could only assume to be masked figures—the brief glimpse of skulls giving her pause.
The number of foes crowded around the perimeter of the open entrance to the circular section, rounds occasionally being sent both into and from the building with decreasing frequency as the moments passed. After a suspicious lull in fire outwards, an energy built in the aggressors. It was tense. Nervous, yet determined. The reason for the waning resistance became obvious as the first ran forward.
Sunundra’s eyes widened as a group of aggressors charged into the open doors of the den, Joseph’s form tensing by her side. She reached out to grip his arm, not caring if she would puncture his flesh with her claws should he choose to rush in an effort to assist. There was a limited amount that he could do versus so many, and saving his pack ran secondary to her concerns for his life. It was a sentiment that was shown on Huntress Pan’s face, but the decision was much heavier for the Paw—her every muscle twitching to slaughter the trespassers against her kin.
The explosion that responded to the intrusion seemed to do that for her, the force of the event somehow failing to shatter the windows or splinter the frame of the robust structure.
A cloud of dust rocketed out of the doorways, the intense flash of light providing silhouette to the bodies of the enemy as they crumpled and flailed, settling a few paces outwards from the building. Joseph’s eyes widened, his scent an overwhelming fear that brought her mind back to moments past. He ripped his arm from her grip as he sprinted to the den, abandoning cover and safety. Sunundra shot a look to his mate, meeting the empty space where she once was. She had torn off at the same time.
The two suicidal leaders of the pack stiffened as they exposed themselves to the enemy force, most of them still dazed by the unexpected shockwave and debris. Joseph wasted no time leaning into the first strike, an arc of blood following his bracer, Pan following kind.
The Grand Huntress stood still, frozen by what she saw before her.
The white-furred female was quickly stained crimson as she became a flurry of strikes and cuts, even though she fought by her mate’s side, wide arcs and crisp strikes skimming his form as they carved a path through the forces. Kicks were pulled in as they passed the male, only to be extended and connect with the target, her deployed weapons making short work of the reeling foe as she counter-spun. Joseph alternated between knocking those in his way unconscious and leaving them bleeding on the ground, but there were too many to fight their way through—not that the fact stopped them.
Sunundra snapped out of her stupor and levelled her CARD, flicking it to single-fire for the much-needed accuracy. Her claw faltered as it squeezed the trigger, a chorus of battle cries and clicks pouring from the den. A single thought took precedent in her mind.
This pack was insane, without a doubt.
A cluster of fur, scale, and armour charged out from the confines of the building in number—those still able to fight, taking what arms they had gathered and seeking the enemy. Lilhuns wielded swords and firearms, Atmo clad in absurdly thick ironwood acting as a mobile barricade to press back the attackers. Head Jax stormed forth, axe in paw, and swung the heavy implement to bisect two of the newly-stunned foe. Head Sahari stood atop of a blue insect adorned in ludicrous amounts of armour—both metal and wooden—barking orders as she let loose round after round from her rifle.
The Atmo slammed into the wall of flesh opposing them, the Grand Hunter’s kit snapping clicks to command them as she pushed forward into the mass of threats with Daisy following anxiously behind.
“Violet!”
The young Queen’s focus flicked to Joseph, seeing him through the crowd with his mate fending off those that had gathered their faculties first. She witnessed him narrowly avoid a blade before driving his own into the attacker’s stomach, kicking away the opponent.
The kit followed in her adoptive father’s footsteps.
Blades blurred purple as she cut through the air with her orders—no, commands.
The Insectoids listened.
The battle became a blood bath.
Before Sunundra could identify a clear firing line, Violet kicked two of her legs into the dirt, all but flashing forward, her blades following her path on a delay—and with her, the fallen. Vertical slices cut both flesh and weapon, straight thrusts pierced armour and arrogance, and her startling mobility meant that retaliation met only the space she once occupied, leading to moments of realization before the Atmo severed life from form. Some tried to aim for the yellow insect that followed behind her sister, but Violet made defending her a priority. As much as she could, anyway.
The singular strike that breached her defences brought pause to the battlefield, but not for the effect it had on the kit.
The tip of the sword halted just shy of yellow carapace, the paw holding the handle gripped by another. The male drew his eyes from the Atmo, meeting the piercing stare of the grey-furred Wraith. Even at the distance she was, Sunundra could see no tell-tale violent joy that was characteristic of Blades, nor the morbid amusement they often found in stealing the breath of the living. There was nothing but one emotion transmitted perfectly clear through the recently donned armour and mask. A singular entity conformed into one vessel, wrought by ire and wrath. It promised but one thing.
The Void.
It persisted as she slit his throat. It remained unquenched as she drew a pistol to put a round through his head, followed by two to his kin that sought it wise to defend him. It burned brightly in her eyes as she pushed the corpse away, beginning to saunter through the skirmish slowly, new shots placed with lethal accuracy and little more than a glance. Other Wraiths joined from various sides, watching from above the rooftops like spectres of death. Head Nalah and her group pushed to the den after clearing their area, rejoining the pack to cut off a wide area of retreat.
Suddenly, the trapped and cornered prey became hunters; hard won ground became a pit of demise that the enemy found themselves in, surrounded on most sides. The attackers routed towards the one exit they were afforded as more guns became active, and armoured insects taking the form of sapient tanks started advancing on the dwindling forces.
Tel pointed a claw towards the fleeing, demanding their fate with a single weighted utterance—her form relaxed, yet authoritative.
“Kill them.”
The Wraiths shot after their quarry, unleashed. Gunshot, whip, and daggers chased after those leaving behind their allies to escape the very settlement they sought to slaughter. Skull and shadow chased the fearful. Atmo and Lilhun pushed them outward.
Fallen were left in their wake.
Sunundra brought her CARD up to shoot at those who tried to stray from the path, losing sight of her targets. What was once a force numbering around a hundred had been whittled to but eight. It was only when the Atmo returned that she let herself actually breathe.
She leaned against the cover she had taken, weary and drained as adrenaline faded from her system. Injured pack gathered around the Grand Hunter—the male having embraced his kit with Pan while Sunundra was preoccupied. Some were attended to where they stood, others dragged back into the den to have worse wounds treated. Tel remained standing in front of the yellow Queen, her eyes burning behind the mask, her form still and stare fixed towards where her foes had run. Sunundra decided to give the reuniting den a moment; Joseph was too preoccupied with holding his kit and speaking to the Heads to pay her any mind.
Daisy clicked her greeting, pressing herself into Tel’s back like the female would protect her from the world itself. Seeing the seething rage bottled behind the mask, the Grand Huntress had to agree; there was something beyond mere fondness driving the Wraith.
It was only when she got close enough for the Atmo to touch her did Daisy remove herself from the grey-furred female and embrace Sunundra. Returning it, she glanced at the still vigilant Blade.
There was no calm. No salacious hints in posture or regard. Merely what remained when a living weapon was stripped of what constituted them ‘living.’
“Devoid of what your mate seeks, Tel?”
The Wraith blinked, turning her head to look at the Grand Huntress. A final glance to where the enemy retreated was all it took for the female to return to what she was—though it was a slow process. Eventually, she pulled her mask off, exhaling what may have very well been pure violence, her voice carried with an almost feral growl.
“They sought to harm what is mine. Naught but brutality was deserved. My Wraiths will see that the last of them spend their final moments begging for the release of the Void.”
Sunundra’s ear flicked. “Yours?”
The question took a moment to register, earning a furrowing of the female’s brow. Unfortunately, the thought didn’t have time to be ruminated on before Joseph stood, his eyes scanning the wary pack.
Some were being treated, but the Heads were commanding the able to push their influence outward—to recapture their settlement and purge the intruders. She spotted Mi’low clutching her arm, supported by a dirty blond-furred male as she directed the medical personnel. Bratik was still within the den with his mate, transporting what little supply that survived the explosion. Toril smiled passively by the door as his Blade dropped from the rooftops, the female sharing her report.
Whatever it was, another within earshot snapped his head to the voice, his eyes widening. The brown-furred male faltered for a moment before running into the settlement with reckless abandon, two females calling after him as they gave chase. More of the pack moved out in organized fashion, the commands over the din informing everyone to spread out and recapture sections slowly.
Soft clicks sounded out and were reciprocated by Daisy, Violet approaching to embrace her sister. Joseph and Pan joined them, the Grand Hunter watching the running male disappear with caution.
“What’s gotten into Atrox?”
Pan hugged into his arm, neither paying mind to the blood staining her fur. “It is not safe yet.”
The Human sighed, tension never fully leaving him, though reuniting with his kit took off most of the immediate edge. “We need to figure out how many are still outside the walls. Tersa, how’s it looking out there?”
The Blade swivelled an ear, bowing to Toril and being humorously waved off before she walked over, bowing again to the Grand Hunter. “They have retreated to the depths of the forest. I believe the counter was more than they were expecting. Their number is paltry now.”
Joseph nodded, taking a breath. “We can’t let up yet. Do we know who organized this?”
“Hasen.”
He didn’t seem surprised. His eyes scanned the pack again, brow furrowing. “Figures. Where’s Harrow? I figured she’d be out here. Is she helping Mama inside?”
The Blade blinked, staring at the ground in uncertainty. As if fearing what her response might bring.
“Tersa. Where’s Harrow?”
The female’s answer was stifled by Toril placing a paw on her shoulder, his characteristic smile tense and apologetic. “She is with Mama, Grand Hunter. She refused to leave.”
All pretense of friendliness drained from Joseph’s face at the white-furred male’s tone.
“Why?” he asked, his voice growing strained. Violet perked from her interaction with Daisy, interested in the answer. When nothing but the chemist’s regretful expression was returned, the Human’s glare grew dangerous.
“Where are they?”