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One Hell Of A Vacation
Chapter 98 - Catacombs

Chapter 98 - Catacombs

Chapter 98: Catacombs

They pushed the incursion to the trees, Tech having dropped from her position and joining him past the craters. Explosions were rare now, most of the traps set for this side of the settlement already detonated and taking many with them. Bodies littered the ground in various states of dismemberment on their way to the forest, yet it mercifully became less of an issue as they walked into the brush. The shouting and gunfire had ceased; only the constant sound of thunderous rain pelting the leaves remained.

The dark green-furred male pressed himself against the trunk of a tree, wisps of smoke from plasma burns muddling the scent of blood and burnt flesh. Tech jabbed her CARD around her own foliage, stepping carefully to avoid noise as she moved from cover. Her ear twitched, the weapon snapped to the right, and three shots were sent down range with clinical precision.

Another down.

“Prox is clear,” she reported, utilizing the short-wave to amplify her whisper. “Zero-two-three through zero-nine-nine clear. Requesting new vector.”

“Copy, Tech. Vector set one-three-four.” Willin tipped his rifle to check the battery, reluctantly switching out for a fresh one. “Hostile count?”

“One-two-two, Leader.”

“And that’s just the east,” he muttered, confirming his armament and shouldering it as they progressed southward.

The others of the pack had hunkered down for the siege, but they couldn’t simply follow suit. With VIPs in the settlement, and a fairly strong case for reintegration, they had to move to protect it. With Tech’s proximity sensor guiding them, they were able to move through the woods and clear it section by section. It was only when she held a fist up and took cover behind a massive trunk did he slow his pace.

“Visual on encampment.”

“Numbers?”

She peered around the edge, crouching low with her CARD flicked to burst. “Too many. Orders?”

He followed suit to get a gauge on what they were up against.

Solar arrays for weapon charging, hastily constructed and fortified structures and defences, and even...

“Tech, are those improvised mortars?”

She peek again. “Yes, Leader. They are.”

“Do we have explosives?”

“Nope.”

He grinned. “Well that seems unfair, doesn’t it?”

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Tel slipped into the gathering of harried pack members that had congregated with the attackers pulling back, pick-pocketing any who carelessly carried spare batteries for their AMR and replacing it with the ones she expended. It was a trivial task—a mere act of automatic function, really—her body moving to keep her lethal. Whether they noticed or not wasn’t an issue; they were all headed to bother the ones who kept their weapons functional while they could. Her own weapons were pristine—purloined or otherwise.

Her quills stored in her fur demanded use, her daggers itched to be loosed, and the roped variants wished for bloodshed, yet she remained at a distance with the AMR she acquired. She should stay near him, yet she must clear out those who would otherwise pick off the pack’s snipers. It was hardly a worthless pursuit—her involvement allowed them the respite they enjoyed—but it wasn’t what her soul yearned for.

She should be by his side.

She scowled, the scent of irritation and ire that likely matched her own following close behind through the crowded settlement centre. Sunundra had made bold claims before, yet now that she had time to dwell on it, they rang true on some level that she couldn’t deny.

Bonded. Her?

Impossible, surely she would have noticed by now. Joseph was kind, if protective, and she felt no draw towards such—other than her normal desire to be with her male. That was to be expected from a Blade; protect your Sheath, for their lives are worth far more than one’s own. His sorrow didn’t influence her own. His annoyance merely made her wish to cease that which caused it, but again, such was the purpose of her existence.

Yet she still lowered the rifle without question when she had fully intended to remove Sunundra. Why?

It was not as though the female being armed or not influenced the decision; she emerged as dangerous as any other soldier freed from their weapons. It wasn’t any particular body language used to communicate the lack of hostilities, there was no time to ascertain such. All she had to go off of was the instant before her claw twitched to end the life before her, and she just...didn’t.

There was no need. No danger. No threat.

Then there was the matter of the Grand Huntress’ assertion regarding her relations within the den. Sure, she had neglected to include the main pack in those she would hold no hesitation removing when asked by Sahari, but surely that was simply common sense, no? They were as loyal to him as herself in some regards. To remove them would be a last resort—a retaliation to betrayal most foul. Her decision to interact with them more was of her own volition. Even trusting Harrow to create the instrument that Robert claimed would ease her mate’s discomfort was something that had been done purely based on the quality of the female’s work.

Trusting...

Since when did she trust others so readily? When did waking with another feel as natural as breathing?

When did she start finding Pan’s presence as comforting as her male’s?

“The east and west have been cleared,” Sunundra informed her, quickening her pace through the densely populated pathways. Several pack members were in the process of tuning their weapons under the cover of awnings, while others patched wounds not severe enough to see the more experienced. It all blended into a series of those Tel was not in need of acting against, for they would not act against her. Featureless faces and blurred colours of those which did not require her notice.

It was concrete within her, yet not a decision she had made consciously.

“The south?” the Wraith asked, if only to preemptively select her positions. The Grand Huntress grimaced.

“Encampments. Several scouts were lost, but the ones that returned reported great numbers and armament. I was a fool to assume that we alone possessed the ability to recharge; they have solar arrays.”

“That will be greatly diminished in the weather.”

Sunundra nodded, her expression not lifting from the concern. “Yet it will give them sustainable use once the storm passes.”

“Then we eliminate them before the coverage dissipates,” Tel replied casually, stopping when she noticed her unfortunate company failed to follow. She glanced over her shoulder.

“We lack the material to supply an assault, Blade,” the Grand Huntress stated factually. “We may be able to stop an attack, but much is because of what has already been spent.”

“You have more to be planted, if not unearthed, yes?”

“We must maintain the coverage to the north.”

Tel smirked, happy to be away from ruminations and excited for her potential plans. “That does not deny that you have those yet to be placed, Sunundra.”

The female stared back for a long moment, exhaling slowly. “What do you wish of them?”

“A personal delivery,” she replied with a playful lilt.

A flicker of a smile graced the Grand Huntress’ muzzle. “I may have something you would be interested in.”

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Joseph’s head swam from the adrenaline, his pace slowing as he checked another corner. The nest was huge, and although he had been keeping track of his turns, the way everything interconnected at random points made getting too far ahead of his pursuers dangerous. Each step could inadvertently bring him closer, instead of further. The lights became rarer and rarer to see, shadows being the best he had for some sections, others being almost pitch black. It was only the odd breeze that gave him any indication that he was still progressing—the vents in the ceiling occasionally allowing the scent of rain.

He stuck his CARD down the hallway and crossed carefully, his finger resting above the trigger. A single twitch would set it off, and he didn’t need a louder report of where he was. He let his breath out once he was across, quickly picking his pace back up.

They had stopped merely going after the first person they saw in hopes that his actions were a retreat. Now they were hunting. They wanted vengeance, and it showed with every taunting shout.

He hadn’t abandoned goading them deeper into the catacombs, but he couldn’t recklessly draw them without having some idea of where he was going either. It was a balance of running, inching, and hiding behind corners. It was working, but only just. Five still pursued him through the tunnels, and he had only alerted them to the fact that they could cut him off.

He pressed himself to a corner, the dim lighting hiding him in shadow. Footsteps. Claws against stone. Slow, careful, and purposeful.

Joseph swallowed his fear, his naturally stronger pheromones akin to a damn beacon for the Lilhun.

It wasn’t enough.

For better or worse, the one who found him was a bow user, the pulled string bending the limbs of the weapon, an arrow nocked and ready. They stepped wide, cutting his chances of catching them close by surprise. One step. Two steps.

He tore forward, the bow snapping straight in response. The arrow connected with his mask, the skull cracking and shattering across the left side of his face. Shrapnel was ignored, hesitation rejected. He brought his shoulder clean into the taller opponent, the crack of ribs and bone reverberating through his skin as both tumbled to the ground.

He rolled into it, skidding on his knees and keeping hold of the CARD. More footsteps. Frantic. Closer.

Another bow peeked the corner, Joseph pulling his whimpering victim up by the shirt for cover and ignored the shock through his new shield as he ducked behind it. Ignored the silence. Ignored the lack of further resistance. He scrambled to his feet and ran deeper into the tunnels before the new opponent could ready another shot, their shouting calling more enemies. His mind hazed as he rejected what he had done. What he did without thinking. The first wasn’t his fault, he had tried to be non-lethal. The second... He knew what might happen. What would happen...

Run. Run and get to cover. Four more. Four more and he could see Daisy. See Tel. Four more and it would be over. He could think then.

Just not right now.

His pace was slower than he wanted—hindered and lopsided—his right leg buckling slightly with every step, his ribs paining at every push against the stone below him. Why was his breathing so heavy? Why did his hands feel sticky? And why was it getting harder to keep going?

Stop thinking. Run, and deal with things as they happen.

Four more.

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The storm worsened, Tel taking to the trees a branch at a time. She felt the CARD jostle in the holster on her hip, her AMR laying angled against her back. Spare batteries were tucked away, but nothing encumbered her more than her most recent acquisition.

The Grand Huntress was indeed low on explosives, but the two afforded to the Wraith were no mere landmines. They were used for especially large ground vehicles, planted and forgotten upon travelled roadways to detonate and eviscerate anything above them. They couldn’t be set off normally in circumstances such as this, but it seemed that the female had prepared for such an eventuality.

They were timed. Not long, barely more than it would take for her to flee the area, but long enough. It would demolish anything southward and send quite the message to any who seek to further hinder the settlement. To threaten her Sheath.

She slowed within the canopy, spotting what seemed to be a fair sized group transporting mortar shells, though seeing the munitions was unexpected. The explosive she had tied to her retraction mechanism weighed heavily on her.

No matter. She would be quick.

Tel waited, slipping between branches to find the optimal spot, waiting for the crew below to pass underneath. The first passed. The second. The fifth. She pulled her roped daggers slowly. Silence would work best for the first strike, and silent she would be.

The footsteps barely carried against the drumming of rain on the leaves above, but she was patient. The perfect moment would arrive, and she would become the epicentre of their demise. They passed by, she dropped, and a smirk formed on her muzzle as she let all the slack on her daggers out and spun to start the inertia.

It was a maelstrom of blood.

The first fell victim to her quills, the thin amber needles piercing the flesh and eliminating them silently. The second was silenced by the loose dagger, and a third was swiftly grappled to match the first. Her tail pulled the retraction lever to start the slaughter anew.

Tel jumped at a tree, kicking off it as she threw a dagger wide, her claw tapping the rope to change the trajectory. A male suffered the knife while another was knocked unconscious by a kick. A third tried to shoulder a weapon, her paw stopping the rising firearm and thrusting another quill into their throat.

It was only when one finally managed to fire a shot that she returned the favour.

She brought her CARD up, flicked to rapid, and jammed it into the stomach of the closest threat, her foot kicking away one of her daggers to deal with another. The sizzle of flesh boiling from a salvo of plasma outweighed the brief whimper.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

An arrow whistled by her tucked ear, finishing the job on the scorched female. Shoving the body away, she bolted forward. A spinning to slash the neck of one while firing another burst at a second. Her paw grabbed one of the mortar rounds, the other flicking the CARD into single-fire and shooting two rounds into the archer who had thought her unaware of their position, the limp corpse falling to the ground.

Two remained of the group, frantically hiding behind cover and freeing the Wraith to slip back into the trees, the whirring of her ropes being recalled muffled amongst the rain.

She smirked, the remainders below hastily searching and screaming for others to assist. She didn’t need proximity sensors to know that there were reinforcements on the way. It meant that there would be less interest in guarding the encampment. She tossed the mortar round up, catching it casually as she worked through her memory to determine what would be required to arm it.

Most worked off rotation, the centrifugal force pushing the elements inside outward and priming it for detonation. This one, however, sported a fairly primitive protrusion. Depress it, and there was little left where it landed.

Simple, yet devastating.

Tel wandered off some distance away, waiting for those who would come after her previous location. By the time the trickle slowed, only about ten had shown up to assist. She frowned, sighing as she lobbed the shell. She was off towards the encampment when the explosive went off, the flash of inferno illuminating the mist in front of her, putting the smallest of smiles on her face.

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His rifle remained on target as he crept closer, the long wait and careful pace finally about to pay off. They had successfully escaped the notice of several in the patrol, opting to take out the two stragglers before they set about rigging their munitions to detonate. It would be a sensitive operation, but with Tech’s modifications and his precise paws, they should be able to manage it.

Their batteries were running low. He was down to his last and Tech was doing slightly better at two half-charges from a tactical reload part way through their steady push. If not for the rain, the attacking pack might have noticed the heavy scent of blood in the air not far from their set up. As it was, they could relax knowing that even the scorched flesh that imparted its smell upon them was muted by the unrelenting precipitation.

Tech held up a fist as they got closer, the trees acting as cover and brush providing obscuration. The short-wave crackled quietly in his ear.

“Two sighted. They seem preoccupied,” Tech informed him. “We take those out, then we should have some time before the next patrol notices them missing.”

“Should be ample for us to do what we need to,” Willin agreed, sweeping his rifle around the area just in case. He trusted her proximity sensor, but it only needed to fail them once for it to be fatal, and it already had. They were just lucky that the heiress hadn’t seen fit to remove them.

“Permission to move?”

“Granted. Take it slow.”

The purple-furred female did as requested, stepping carefully to avoid making noise. The task was easier in the rain, but it was best if they treated it like a clear sun to avoid stupid mistakes. He followed after her, keeping his gun on a swivel while mindful not to flag his partner. A single twitch could find him alone in enemy territory.

Their stealth was textbook, their targets unaware of the fate that was about to befall them. He pulled the knife from his boot slowly as he got into position to eliminate them.

Until everything went to the Void.

Willin flinched at the explosion that ripped any semblance of success from his paws, Tech freezing in step. It was close. Not so near that they saw it, but the sound whipped through the trees, leaves bending sideways despite the downpour. The encampment they had been trying to get behind burst into motion, mortar rounds quickly dumped into piles next to the improvised weapons and firearms promptly distributed. The guards they had almost taken by surprise looked back, spotting the two UM members.

He lunged forward, letting the rifle drop against his chest as he stuffed the rising gun downwards and struck for the heart with his knife. The other guard hesitated between helping their other member and shooting at Tech.

It was a fatal mistake.

Though she was less inclined to perform in close quarters, that didn’t mean she couldn’t. Her CARD became an improvised bludgeon that smashed their jaw aside before being jammed into the mouth of the unsuspecting target. The hiss of flesh and whine of the plasma gun was drowned out by the unorthodox silencer.

“What in the Void was that?” Tech huffed, adrenaline lingering as she pulled the sizzling barrel out of her unfortunate victim.

“No idea, but I think we need to move.”

The purple-furred female glared at him. “Where?”

He shrugged, motioning for them to retreat a bit out of the way. His dark green fur clashed against the yellow foliage and armour, but the sun was starting to set, and shadows welcomed his colours. “We can hide out for a bit. Try again later. I doubt they’ll fire the mortars in the moonlight like this. They need to see where they’re hitting.”

Shouting in the encampment was followed by some members quickly loading the rounds into the crude pipes, thumps of bombardment ringing out soon after. Tech stared at him flatly.

“You were saying?”

He smiled sheepishly. “Maybe we should move.”

Her paw shot up to her ear, eyes widening for a moment before she burst forward to grab his arm and tug him behind a tree. He opened his mouth, but her free paw slapped across it, silencing him. Her proximity sensor must have detected something.

It did, two more of another patrol rushing towards where the others had been stationed. The soldiers exchanged a nod. Stealth was no longer an option. Loud it was.

They spun around the tree, both weapons lighting up the new targets in single shots. Stomach, chest, head. The plasma rounds pierced their targets and sent streaks of molten death screaming through the air, rain screaming as steam overtook their vision.

A blur of shadow in the haze startled him, his weapon snapping towards the source and his gun instantly jolted, the vague outline of a foot smacking the firearm to the side. Tech flicked her CARD into burst, levelling the gun at the new threat.

A fist connected with her jaw, the plasma-caster ripped from her paws, and another kick landed into Willin’s stomach, knocking him onto his haunches, his back crashing into the trunk of a tree. A disoriented glance confirmed much was the same for Tech, except she had the misfortune of their assailant planting a foot on them to keep her pinned to the ground. He noticed the cool blackened metal of a CARD aimed at his face, Tech’s stolen gun doing the same to her.

“You are rather fortunate that your mistake was quieter than my distraction,” a familiar female voice teased, amusement colouring her lilt.

“Tel,” he groaned, clutching his stomach now that it was clear he was either destined for the Void, or merely going to be taunted. Tech growled, raising a paw to rub her jaw. The grey-furred female chortled, picking the latter of the two options.

“Hello again, Leader. Strange to see yourself out here.”

He gave a pained glare. “We were going to rig their explosives.”

The Blade tilted her head, a dangerous grin spreading. “I have something much more appropriate.”

Tech grunted when her CARD was dropped to replace the foot, Tel sliding her own back into her holster. She pulled an amalgam of wires and bulk from her back, the sight taking a moment for Willin to place. When he did, his eyes widened.

“You are not setting that off here.”

Tel giggled, her voice turning dangerous. “But I am, Leader. For the ones who keep me from him? Even this is too little.”

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The shouting increased in volume as the two sets of footfalls chased after him, an arrow sinking into the armoured plates in his Wraith armour. God, he owed Pan so many favours after this.

It was a simple enough mistake; he had somehow managed to walk in a circle while avoiding the gun user who had caught onto his scent. The winding catacombs might have made sense to him at first, but he was struggling to remember his turns. Each intersection felt familiar, yet new—every tunnel looked the same when the Atmo weren’t given time to decorate them. It had led to him walking straight behind two of the slower members in the pursuit, and they wasted no time in taking advantage of his evolving fatigue.

He had a moment to assess himself between running like hell and hiding, revealing that the pain in his leg was in part due to plasma burn, but also a heavy nick from an arrow that leaked crimson fluid at a constant rate. The blood was giving him away more than his scent. Add on bruises and a possible twisted ankle, and he wasn’t in the best shape.

It was a miracle he had gotten away from them at all.

That went up in smoke, however, because the next corner he darted around brought him face-to-face with the third member. A sword flicked by his vision, his instinctive duck preventing a possible beheading. The lunge past his attacker bought him a second, but he was tired.

So, so tired.

The second swing caught him in the back.

He crashed to the ground, rolling in time to avoid being immobilized by the sword-wielding male. The CARD was levelled at the stomach and a burst brought screaming to fill the fleeting silence, whatever missed sailing beyond the corner and discouraging pursuit from the others. He drowned out the verbal agony. The stomach churning sight of what happened when plasma tore through a torso. The repulsion he felt knowing that he was the one who caused it.

His run was reestablished quickly, himself only barely aware of the pain in his back.

Joseph fought back the urge to vomit when the screaming stopped.

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Tel rejoined those she left at the perimeter of the encampment, her duty complete. The two were hiding behind the trees, anxious for any response to her gift that she mixed amongst the artillery munitions. It was meaningless worry; she had completed her goal admirably, and it would soon become quite the unveiling.

“Get moving,” she commanded, dropping behind the purple-furred female. Both snapped their eyes to the Wraith, but neither repeated the mistake of aiming at her. She cut off the question from Leader. “We have less time than it would take to explain just how little of you there would be left to retrieve. Move.”

The dark green-furred male glanced at his partner, exchanging a shrug before sprinting back towards the settlement as fast as they could. Tel took to the trees again, using the branches and their natural flexibility to increase her speed. Sound wasn’t an issue—there would be quite the racket in just a few moments.

And sound there was.

The very fabric of reality seemed to suck in, pulling the concept of time to meaningless drivel. The rain stilled, the haze of the spray glancing off leaves stopped, and the blur of passing branches stretched into long lines of incomprehensible colour. Her rapid heartbeat pulsed with the blood forcing its way through her veins, her legs decompressing against the trunk of a tree fraction by fraction.

Then there was heat. The flash of light behind them sent a pure shock of endorphins as her primordial instinct to fear the Void was overridden by her desire to overcome such a meagre thing as death. The bass rolled through the forest around them, the pressure bending the trees by the roots.

The noise was almost deafening, but it was nothing next to the sheer force of the explosion.

Tel was propelled forward, as if spite for mortality was enough to send her at speeds she had only experienced in a vehicle. Were it not for her surroundings, she may have ended up seriously injured, but she was fortunate enough to have her horizontal fall broken by the branches. She rarely considered the more spring-like nature of many trees, but she certainly appreciated the lack of broken bones.

She would have to recommend a longer timer to Sunundra next time.

Why ‘next time?’

Because the pure elation was addictive. Perhaps she had more in common with the Grand Huntress than she realized.

Her impromptu company, however, were not quite as excited. They had thrown themselves into the dirt to avoid such a happening, and both looked at her with a mixture of stupefaction and disbelief when the Wraith bounced out of the brush with a wide grin plastered to her muzzle, her fur matted and full of forest detritus.

She paused to enjoy the inferno burning in the distance as earth joined the rain in its compliance with gravity, the orange and gold flickers mixing with the dark black plumes of smoke. There wasn’t a single cry from the encampment, just the peaceful lull and pouring precipitation of a task completed. Tech coughed as Leader voiced his opinion, pushing his face from the dirt and ruining the ambience.

“So, you bombed them with something far more powerful than you had any right using,” he remarked sarcastically, picking himself up off the ground and knocking the mud out of his ear. “Any particular reason why?”

Tel blinked. “They hindered my Sheath.”

Tech glared cautiously from below, flipping to her back. She reached out and pulled her CARD back into her holster. “That’s it?”

“Of course not,” the Wraith replied cheerily, growing a malicious smile as her tone took a husky turn. “They deserved far worse.”

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Plasma blazed past his head, the passing heat felt despite what remained of his mask and hood. His pursuers had caught up to him again, and this time they were leading with shots instead of shouts.

His running, bleeding, and now several deaths attributed to his name gave them plenty of reason to chase him down. They were getting closer and closer with every turn. The gun wielder had joined the fray, their rounds turning a simple task of leading them away into simply putting as many corners and walls between him and line of sight. The bowman needed far more time to put an arrow down range, and the swordsman had split off at some point—probably to cut him off further down the tunnels—so the real threat was the blazing projectiles that he didn’t want to test against his armour.

His only saving grace was that although he was running on fumes, he could still keep pace for longer than them.

Just not forever.

He stumbled, his legs finally voicing their protests in a way he was forced to listen, letting him get just past the corner before he needed to brace himself against the wall of the hallway. A breeze of fresh air floated through the corridor, filling him with both oxygen and hesitation as he tried to remember what turns he had taken. Where he had ended back up.

A violent tremor shook the ground, dirt shaking loose from the ceiling and cracking the stone. Dust billowed from the hallway behind him as a portion of the tunnel collapsed. One less way to go.

Seeing little option and the sounds of running increasing in volume, he forced his body to comply, jogging through panted breaths down the random tunnel he had chosen.

He paused when he reached the next intersection, the path to his left sporting a hole to the outside and two motionless Lilhuns amongst the rubble. He had gotten turned around. He was back where he started. He was out of options.

Right would take him towards the covering Atmo, forward would put Daisy in danger—escape route dug out or not—and left was collapsed. Behind him would just be playing into their paws. He was trapped.

His heart hammered home whatever it could as it sank in. It was him or them.

The first was an accident. The second was an unfortunate necessity. The third was a desperate impulse. The rest?

He had time to think about what he needed to do.

He gripped his CARD, the crossbow still tucked away under his coat and the belt of arrows suddenly feeling like lead weights that dragged him down, his bracers heavier by the second. He had options, but none were going to keep his hands free of blood. Not without knowing first.

Plasma flew down the hallways towards him, his dive saving him the burns. His back screamed at the abuse, but his mind didn’t listen. He needed to move. To ambush. To put something between him and his attackers. He fired off a few single shots from his CARD and ran towards the room Daisy had been told to escape from.

He prayed she had done as he asked.

She did, as it turned out—the empty room adorned with a wide hole that had been absent the last time they were there. It wasn’t the perfect place, but the corner and pillars would give him something to work with. Something to use.

He tucked himself against the tightest angle he could manage at the doorway, gun aimed low. The steps came slowly.

A bow came first, much to his surprise. The unexpected armament gave him too much pause, allowing the male to sight him. His reaction was quick, but so was Joseph’s.

CARD ignored, the Human dropped the weapon, grabbing the nocked arrow by the shaft and punching out, the male’s jaw taking a heavy hit. A subsequent kick knocked them down. The swordsman behind them wasn’t quite as slow to retaliate.

The sword swung quickly, cutting their ally before they could discern who they were attacking. It bought him enough time to bring his bracers up and block the rest of the arc, the force slamming him against the wall. He pushed the metal weapon out of the way with his left, deploying the right bracer and driving the dagger into the Lilhun’s skull in pure self-preservation.

It sunk effortlessly into the flesh, the push of his fist removing the remains from his blade. He had no time to process it. No time to register anything besides the recovering bowman and the running closing in. Joseph picked up the discarded gun, bolting towards a pillar for cover and making sure to land a passing knee into the other remaining combatant. It gave him space.

He pressed his form against the smooth stone between him and the doorway, counting the steps as they slowed. Muted conversation made his heart drop. Of course they would tell each other where he went. Knocked for a loop or not, the bowman knew he was still in the room, and there were only so many things to hide behind.

The footsteps closed in gradually as he wiped the oddly viscous sweat from his eye.

He waited for them, straining his ears for distance, clutching his weapon as blood threatened to overpower the slight click of claws on stone. Closer… Closer…

There.

He lashed out as soon as the barrel peeked the edge, ripping the weapon from their paws and throwing it towards the middle of the room. The roar he bellowed was one of a cornered beast. He was no longer Human. No longer a man protecting those he wanted safe.

He was driven by pure instinct.

The CARD was jammed into the stomach of the gunman, a burst ripping out the back of his assailant. There was no screaming or subsequent eerie silence. Just the collapse of a predator that his primitive instincts celebrated surviving. He took a breath, falling back against the pillar and sliding to sit on the ground before his legs could take standing away from him. His eye was sealed shut with a sticky substance, his breathing deep. Heavy. Pained.

When did he hurt his ribs?

A weak wipe of his face revealed blood coagulating on his eyelid, a previously unnoticed cut hampering his vision. It wasn’t overly bad, but he was lucky that it hadn't affected him earlier.

The thought of his fiancees being pissed with him over getting hurt brought a smile to his face, interrupted by a shift in the ambience.

Clacks on the hard floor drew his focus, a yellow figure colouring the otherwise dimly lit wall. Small, familiar, and catching the attention of the bowman he had accidentally armed with a rifle.

The Lilhun’s eyes snapped to the Atmo Queen, then to the nearby discarded weapon. They scrambled for it.

Joseph swallowed his bile, bringing the CARD up and pulling the trigger in a desperate attempt to stop what was about to happen. He wasn’t a target for the moment—that would come after—but Daisy had probably heard his shout and had come to see if he was okay. It would end with her lifeless for her concern. The trigger depressed, bottoming out against the grip.

Nothing. Out of juice.

His pocket turned up devoid of the replacement battery he had stowed. The CARD was little more than an awkward bludgeon.

The Lilhun grabbed the rifle, staggering from disorientation and several strikes to the head. It took precious seconds to aim it at the bladed insect in the room.

Too many seconds. A twang reverberated through the room, followed by the clatter of metal on stone. Joseph lowered the crossbow to his lap, too worn to celebrate his morbid victory. His vision dimmed slowly as Daisy scurried to his side, the frantic clicks passing through his ears without notice. He smiled at her, breathing out a sigh of relief.

“Hey, Daisy. Everyone get out safe?”

He couldn’t parse the answer, but that didn’t matter. She was safe. The Atmo were safe. He had done it.

Now... Now he could vomit.

And so he did.