#32 reaches the second floor, but after searching finds nothing except for another open window at the end of the hallway. #32 stops to listen but doesn’t hear any sounds of movement until a shattering clink is heard outside. Walking rapidly back to the open window, #32 sees a shadowy figure enter a smashed open window and enter the building directly across from him. #32 closely scans the area for the method used to cross the two building until he spots just on the ledge below a leftover building construction rail that had not been removed and was still connecting the two building.

#32 slings the semi-automatic weapons over his shoulders and shimmies out the open window. Holding onto a ledge, #32 leaps lightly onto the metal railing as it dangerously sways with his added weight. #32 finds himself wobbling in mid-air, trying to regain his balance as the wind and weight of his weapons threaten to cause him to fall onto the ground below. Not that the fall would kill, but it would certainly hurt him and throw a wrench into his plans.

#32 wobbles for a second far too left to the side, before finding his balance. Putting one foot in front of the other with arms outstretched, #32 crosses over to the next building. #32 reaches the smashed window and carefully stumbles inside. #32 rolls to his side expecting a waiting trap. Firing blindly, the room objects shatter under the impact of bullets as #32 shouts, “Come on love, you surely can do better than that!”

The gunfire dies down as several broken items clatter onto the ground loudly. #32 weapons flicker in that direction, but he doesn’t fire. Frowning, #32 recalls a favorite phrase of Al, “The first step to blinding someone is getting them to open their eyes.” Just what was he missing? #32 thought as he moves out of the room. A soft scrape is suddenly heard above as #32 glances upwards and a pointed heel slams into his face breaking his nose.

#017 swings off the doorway and into the hallway at a full sprint. Not bothering to staunch his bleeding, broken nose, #32 shoots blindly into the hallway trying to see through blurry eyes. #32 only manages to see a shadow figure disappear around the corner. #32 unable to breath is forced to halt in the doorway and touch his bleeding nose. Taking a deep breath, #32 snaps his nose in place as a river of blood trails down his face. Feeling his face smarting, #32 removes his coat and wipes the blood off his face, before tossing it onto the floor.

Ready, #32 marches back out into the hallway and runs at a full speed, rounding the corner he sprays the hallway with bullets and rooms he passes until only the empty barrel clicking sound can be heard. #32 sighs in disappointment and tosses the weapons to the side, before reaching for his own private handguns. “Well, I guess old school it is just for old times’ sake,” #32 cheerfully mused out loud.

#32’s leisure footsteps sound loudly in the empty hallway as he moves forward. The only remaining left unchecked is the dining hall at the end of the hallway. #32 comes to a halt a few feet away from the two wide open doors that reveal the faculty private dining hall. The room is exquisitely still setup and untouched, the tables and chairs are still perfectly in place. And even in the dim light the fine china and silverware sparkle like new. #32 sighs and says, “Really, hide and seek? Couldn’t you have picked to play something a bit more exciting like tag?”

There is no response as #32 takes a step into the dining room. Abrupt and loudly, a table is propped up against the floor as silverware and chairs crash onto the floor. #32 dives to his side and returns fire from behind a table he upends as well. Crashing on his side, #32 leans back against the table and listens.

Poking his head over the edge, #32 glances for any movement. Suddenly another crash is heard, #32 fires to only see fire coming from another direction. Cursing himself, #32 lets out a hiss as he falls back for cover as a bullet scrapes past his arm.

“Okay, this is getting a bit boring, how about we do this mano y mano, Al? After all, I’m not one that is afraid of death, death is merely dreaming in silence. A dream that lasts for eternity,” #32 shouted over the rain of fire.

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“Then be careful what you wish for,” a voice said in his ear as the gunfire in the background dies. It dawns on #32 that the gunfire had been set up as a distraction. It was the perfect setup.

#32 isn’t able to dodge the blow that aims for his thyroid bone. His weapons are slapped out of his hand and unable to breathe, #32, falters onto his back as #17 delivers another body blow to the back of his knee. A loud snap is heard as #32 reaches for his waist and grabs a hidden gun. #017 unable to dodge throws herself back, a loud gunshot is heard as #32 fires. #017 feels a burning sensation as the bullet passes cleanly through her stomach and out the other end.

#017 rolls under a table as #32 with a loud grunt, snaps his knee back into place. Ripping off a shoulder sleeve, he ties the sleeve firmly around his right knee in support lest the broken bone pop back out. Leaning more on his left leg, #32 says, “So, for conversation sake seeing as either of us may die at any time by the others hand, you never did tell me, what you believed in, Al.”

“I never agreed with your version of death. Why would I want to keep dreaming for all eternity? I would think you would have had enough of dreaming to last us, both, hundreds of lifetimes,” #017 grumbled before upending the table next to #32 onto him, but not before grabbing linen napkins off the table to staunch the flow of blood dripping down her waist.

#32 dives forward and rolls under a table, crawling away. #32 waits and listens, before emerging with his back to the wall. “So, what, if, I have never stopped dreaming? But why does that make me the crazy one!” #32 said, before noticing movement at his left and firing in that subsequent direction.

Walking forward, #32 shouts over the sound of the bullets. “We were always the happiest there, together, Al. We grew up, got married and had our children; we watched them leave as we grew old together to finally die together. Why is it so terrible to continue to believe in those dreams?” #32 cried out to only see gleaming silverware fly in his direction. Diving under a table, #32 sees the sharp, pointed silverware neatly line up against the floor at his last location.

#32 suddenly is pulled out from under the table by the ankles, #32 aims and kicks at #017’s knee causing her to fall onto her back. #32 rightness himself back up as #017 rolls back onto her feet. #017 glances at the weapon that is a few feet away as does #32. The two don’t even glance at each other and aim for the weapon for different reasons.

#017 reaches the gun first and fumbles with it for a second as #032 throws silverware after her. #017 drops the gun as a steak knife becomes lodged into her hand. #017 dives to her side, but not before kicking the gun further away under a table.

A table suddenly slams into the place #17 was as #32 grabs a chair off the ground and swings it at #017 with full force. #017 kicks the chair away as #32 grabs hold of her leg despite having been hurt by a chair leg as it was kicked out of his grasp. #32 slams his left foot into #17’s stomach wounded causing #017 to stiffen. Lifting his right foot again to attack, #017 spins to her side, sweeping #32 left leg with her foot. #32 falls to the ground on his back as #017 scrambles to her feet and dives for one of #32’s guns.

#32 rolls to his side and does the same the room as the room goes completely silent except for the sound of their heavy breathing. Each of their guns is firmly trained on each other ready to fire at the slightest sign of movement or provocation. The two blinked firmly at each other in unspoken communication and slowly climb onto their feet by unanimous agreement. #32 is the first to break the silence by lightheartedly saying, “Is this how it ends? A strange Mexican showdown with guns blazing as we both go out in the prime of youth?”

“We’ve always known it could only end this way,” #017 gravely replied.

“We didn’t always believe that, Al. Didn’t we say, we were going to run off into the sunset, get married, have kids and finally grow old together?” #32 hesitantly professed.

“And we did in many other lifetimes. But neither of us are those individuals in this life,” #017 murmured back with some regret in her voice.

#32 swallows unable to digest the truth nor much less accept it. Rapidly changing the subject, #32 jokingly asks, “So, do we go on three?”

#017 didn’t wait for #32 to finish his sentence and fired. #32 instinctively does the same, but nothing happens on his end, the only sound heard is the empty clicking sound of the gun barrel. #32 frowns and clicks his tongue against his teeth upon noticing the firing pin was gone. In added disbelief, #32 glances further down, but there is no obvious wound. “You missed! How could you miss!” #32 berated.

“I didn’t miss!” #017 replied as #32 glances up at the ceiling to see a familiar bomb timer countdown, starting from 0:04. Four seconds later, the bomb goes off destroying half of the building with it. Only smoke and ruins can be seen in the wake of the explosion without the trace of life anywhere to be seen.