Srell ran rigorously up the numerous flights of stairs that led to the surface of Getla Base. The lighting within the spacious stairwell dimmed and flickered as the supervirus spreading through the base’s living infrastructure began to affect even the base’s most rudimentary systems. Srell had been running up the stairs for several minutes, still in pursuit of the last infiltrator known to be within the base.

Through the busy terp-comms that were buzzing in his ear, Srell had learned of Ursun and Theda’s escape from the explosion that had separated him from them. He’d also heard of Risa and Jaik’s successful trek to the CCC with Prism, and of the neutralization of the Sguvan cyborg just minutes earlier by the Sphingid and soldiers stationed on the canal bridge.

Though he couldn’t see between the flights of stairs above him, Srell could feel his enemies movements vibrate through the metal steps, even if he could not hear them. Srell was certain that his enemy was a man, and he was right. Srell could tell from the heavy steps that the infiltrator took and from the well-defined chest and other muscles that the enemy’s skin-tight suit revealed.

The infiltrator’s silver-colored bodysuit gave him greater speed and endurance than Srell, but that did not stop Srell from maintaining a close distance to the infiltrator. Srell’s heart felt like it was exploding in his chest, and he could taste blood in the back of his throat. Nevertheless, he continued to run up the stairs without stopping.

“We’re almost on the surface!” An Etrysian soldier yelled to Srell from a few flights below him.

Srell grunted as he tried his best to move faster, still believing that he could catch up with the enhanced enemy. Sweat poured down Srell’s forehead from his helmet and down the sides of his face, but he barely took notice of it. Srell knew that the stairwell led to the very area that his leader Ursun believed the infiltrator wanted to be; Srell knew that he would soon be opening a door that led onto the roof of Getla Base’s outer walls. And upon those walls sat the border guns, massive artillery cannons that could destroy just about anything that entered their 100-kilometer range.

“We’re halfway up the stairwell. Stop that Destructor thug at all costs!” Ursun’s voice shouted over Srell’s terp-comms.

Srell tried to use telepathy to contact Ursun, but he quickly realized that the connection no longer worked. Srell then thought of using his terp-comms to ask for guidance, but he didn’t want to deal with its slight transmission delay. In a last, desperate attempt to stop his enemy, Srell withdrew his howler round from his gear belt and slid his launcher attachment onto his PAW. With his howler loaded, he aimed his weapon at the flight of stairs above him.

“What are you doing!? You’ll bring the entire shaft down on us!” An older soldier yelled to Srell from only a few steps below him when the soldier saw the grenade launcher pointed upwards.

Srell cursed to himself before lowering his weapon and charging up the stairs once again. He’d decided to listen to reason, but knew that their prey would reach its objective as a result. And as if reading his mind, the infiltrator disabled a gene gate before bursting through the exit door atop the stairwell, a door that was only a few flights above Srell and his accompanying soldiers. Srell rapidly detached his launcher tube and howler round from his PAW before he resumed running up the stairs.

Srell was angered by how easy it had been for the infiltrator to make it there, with no soldiers standing guard atop the stairwell. The soldiers that had been stationed there had run down the stairs in an attempt to stop the infiltrator. They were killed like all of the others who’d gotten in the infiltrator’s way.

“The enemy has made it out of Access Stairwell 3-E and is now on the roof of the 3E Tower.” A soldier near Srell said over terp-comms.

“This is Guard Unit T3E. We are engaging the enemy.” An anxious soldier’s voice was soon heard through the terp-comms.

As Srell and the other soldiers opened the door to the rooftop a few minutes later, they were met with a bloody scene. The bodies of a dozen soldiers were scattered around the concrete rooftop, many of which were still moving in the light of Æba’s twin moons. The moonlight shined harshly on the large white domes of the border guns that sat silently nearby like strange monuments as the groans of injured men were carried on the ocean air.

Srell held his PAW tightly, with its stock pressed tightly against his shoulder as its short muzzle pointed out at his twilight surroundings. He stepped lightly out of the stairwell after checking the immediate area for any sign of the infiltrator. It was then that he felt a shot streak by his helmet.

“Get to cover!” Srell shouted before dashing over to kneel behind a small gray guard booth only three meters away from the door. The windowed concrete booth was large enough to hold three men, and offered a well-armored position to fire from.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Srell soon saw two of the soldiers who’d followed him out of the stairwell be shot in rapid succession as they tried to join him behind the guard booth. Srell cursed under his breath when he realized that the infiltrator was shooting to maim, not to kill. It was a strategy that the Destructors often used to distract and terrorize their enemies, since many would try to save their injured friends even if it meant endangering themselves.

“Stay in the stairwell! It’s a trap!” Srell shouted to the few soldiers trying to join him on the rooftop. “The infiltrator has created a kill-zone on the roof. There are over a dozen casualties up here. Do not leave the stairwell. I am moving to stop him.” Srell then stated over the terp-comms.

As Srell looked around the corner of the guard booth to find where the infiltrator was firing from, he was nearly shot dead by a bullet. Srell smirked when he wrenched his torso back up to lean against the booth again, satisfied by what he’d managed to peek at. He’d seen his foe standing within the guard booth opposite his own, which offered a fortified firing position.

“He won’t be in there for long. He’s trying to get to a border gun.” Srell thought to himself.

Srell knew that he needed to keep his eyes on the enemy, since he was unable to hear his movements. Srell quickly withdrew his retractable periscope from his gear belt and used it to safely look around the corner. He saw the infiltrator begin running from the booth towards the nearest border gun, which was ten meters away at the center of the tower.

The white chitinous dome that contained the control and firing mechanisms of the gun stood over ten meters tall, and its protruding gray barrel that pointed up at an angle out at the sea was fifteen meters long. It had the appearance of an observatory with an oversized telescope. Though they looked sleek and mechanical, the large rail guns were primarily organic like most advanced Etrysian technologies. Their biological design allowed them to heal between firing their high-speed electrified rounds, which tended to cause too much damage to traditional metallic rail gun barrels.

As Srell put his periscope away and started to leave the back of the booth, he felt a chain of powerful explosions be released near the door to the stairwell. The infiltrator had covertly hurled all of his grenades at the door before he’d started to run, effectively sealing off the stairwell and preventing any further direct access to the roof.

Srell cursed to himself before stealthily slinking out from behind his booth before he began to pursue the infiltrator yet again. He hid behind whatever emplacement and booth that was on his way, careful not to remain too exposed to an enemy that he knew was just as good of a shot as he was. But when Srell saw his foe make a final break for the border gun, running over a stretch of roof that was completely exposed, Srell aimed and fired a burst of disruptor rounds from a safe position behind a smaller inactive turret.

The bullets traveled only five meters and struck the side of the infiltrator’s face mask, which caused him to recoil from the shock and pain. On reflex, the infiltrator aimed his pistol at Srell’s position, but was disarmed by a burst of bullets that struck his hands. Srell heard the man grunt as gold lines began to glow across the surface of the head and hand portions of his bodysuit.

The pistol fell to the ground, and the infiltrator leapt towards the sheltered barricade that covered a trench that surrounded the border gun just as Srell began firing at him again. Srell ran after the man, throwing caution to the wind as he caught up with the enemy near the border gun. Srell began to shoot at a silvery glimmer his eyes caught at the edge of his vision when he walked over to the recessed area that he’d seen the enemy leap to. Srell then recognized that they were merely the gloves that the enemy had been wearing, and cursed himself for falling for the distraction.

The shallow trench began to glow around the gloves, signaling to Srell that they were about to explode. Srell rushed to run around the short barricade that ran along the trench, avoiding the small blast that didn’t do too much damage. Srell soon caught sight of the infiltrator again, then running up a ramp that granted access to the border gun’s interior. Srell fired at the nearby man while running to intercept him, which made the man jump into the dome and temporarily out of Srell’s sight.

But when Srell ran up the simple brown ramp and into the dome’s darkened interior, he was struck from the side and nearly knocked on his feet. The infiltrator then took off his face mask and threw it at the dazed Srell, who quickly saw that the mask was glowing. Srell had to let go of his PAW and grab the mask only to then throw it back out of the entrance to the dome. It was a risky move, and one that led to Srell being knocked down by the resulting explosion that occurred only two meters from his body.

Srell lay on his back on the ground of the walkway, concussed with a few broken ribs. Blood began to run from his right ear as a result of a ruptured ear drum. He tilted his dizzy head just far enough to see his enemy placing a small white patch with a web of golden lines running across its surface on a control panel attached to the artillery system. Despite his sore head and his double vision, Srell could make out the golden glow of the activated white patch, and the calm face of the man who’d beaten him.

The man had a diamond-shaped face and a strong jaw, with plainly-cut straight black hair that came down to the top of his ears. His wide nose and thin lips reminded Srell of one of the teachers he’d had at the orphanage he’d lived at as a child.

The man soon looked over at the incapacitated Srell, and Srell stared into his large brown eyes. It was then that Srell could tell that the man was a Vadamite, as the infiltrator’s eyelids had creases that his own native Esdegonians didn’t have. It was an odd thing, thought the two of them, to be looking into each other’s eyes with curiosity instead of malice. The man simply returned to his work at the control console, satisfied that Srell was not a threat to him.

“What is your situation, Srell? Have you eliminated the infiltrator?” Ursun’s voice began to be transmitted through Srell’s ear-clasp.

Despite the ear clasp using cartilage conduction instead of air to transmit sound, Srell’s damaged ear drum caused the sounds to be distorted. He could barely understand what was being said over the terp-comms.

“We need to know what’s going on up there. Hypergeneral Aksos and the Second Athean Air Fleet are within Surmil airspace as we speak.” Deriges said with concern through the terp-comms.

Srell tried to reach his hands up to rub on his aching ear in an attempt to hear more clearly, but he became aware that he couldn’t move his hands or even his fingers. He began to panic when he realized that he was paralyzed and only able to move his head. He told himself that it was temporary, and that his body was merely in shock, but he could barely calm himself down. He forced himself to keep his head still, as he knew that he was still at the mercy of the man only a short distance away.

“Srell…Srell…Srell…can you hear me?” A familiar voice grew stronger and stronger within Srell’s mind.

“I’m here, Prism. Paralyzed, deaf, and defeated, but still here.” Srell closed his eyes and smirked as his telepathic link slowly began to be restored.

“I’ve been given some medication that is fighting off the virus inside of me. Just give me some time and I will be there to help you.” Prism said telepathically to his wounded teammate.

“We don’t have time. Ursun was right; this Destructor is taking over the border guns. This one, at least. It looks like he’s almost done.” Srell shared.

“Alright. I’ll do what I must, then. Everything will be alright. Just rest now.” Prism’s words echoed in Srell’s mind.

A sense of relief began to wash over Srell. It was a long-shot, but he still believed that Prism could truly save him; he had to believe.