Image of Enevelen with gun drawn and another cyborg carrying a sheathed katana standing shoulder to shoulder in an elevator. [https://i.vgy.me/FeqrOL.png]Enevelen and a second cyborg named Cord-Eel, clamored on to the elevator with an exhausted but casual demeanor. They didn't make eye contact as they got on, and instead began to brush themselves off as the doors closed. Both of them had been doused with splatters of oil and blood, as well as explosive dusts and dirt, looking like someone having just come in from the rain after a wrestle in a mud pit. They had just killed at least two dozen members of the Red Sands on their way to this elevator, and were expecting to kill several dozen more.

The two of them, Enevelen and Cord-Eel, were pursuing a rare collaboration on this hit. Enny had agreed to split the commission with Cord, a practice she usually avoided with other hunters. The group had been based outside her usual area of operation, so it wasn't normally something she would've pursued. However, Cord-Eel and the commissioner had asked for her involvement specifically, and had even expanded the payout to accommodate her, so she had agreed.

Cord was the local expert on the Red Sands cartel as he had spent the past twenty or so years picking them off one by one in their various hold-outs and locations. It had been like a hobby of his ever since he had started training with swords as a child, as the group had been systemically picking off and harassing the people of his town for as long as he could remember, he had told her. Cord-Eel had explained that these deaths had been more than enough motivation for him to become a bounty hunter. Being a regular source of frustration in the gang's behind and getting paid while doing so was a great gig, he felt. Why not also get involved in a handful of other hits while he's at it? It all seemed to make sense to Enny in retrospect, though she hadn't been totally convinced of his actual ability to carry out such jobs. From a quick observation of his fighting, Cord was a decently experienced fighter, though very impulsive. Despite his impressive resumé and unique abilities, something about the job didn't add up. She was beginning to become suspicious of the operation, but she'd keep those feelings to herself for the time being.

Enny selected the lowest floor on the elevator's panel, and took a stance as it began to move. Cord stood to the side of her, trying to mimic her stern and unaffected body language. He had not ever been this close to a hunter so infamous and intimidating as her... it was a surreal experience to say the least. He couldn't help but stare, though he tried his best to pretend as though he was not doing so.

Cord watched as Enny made a quick analysis of her pistol. She inspected the external estimate of energy left in the gun's battery, which was in the low single digits. It resembled a generic handheld standard-issue military pistol from the earlier century, though decorated with seams of glowing light. He was not familiar with the model, and assumed it must've been custom built. The gun also featured a prominent hilt extension that seemed rather strange and unwieldy, as well as a long tube-like silencer screwed onto to the barrel at the front. The whole package looked absurd to him, more like a small hunting rifle than a pistol. Older hunters always seemed to have a lot of strange weaponry, he noted. A tassel was tied to a lower part of the hilt, swinging below the gun. He couldn't imagine what it could be for other than aesthetic appeal.

"Interesting gun, did you, uh, get someone to put it together for you? Or was it a personal project...?"

She side-eyed him, a green light shifting behind her dark visor. She said nothing, but her breathing was faintly audible amongst the ambient drone of the moving elevator.

Enevelen was mostly known for both her expert sniping skills and her immense physical strength, Cord had heard. This made it surreal to him to see her using what would normally be considered a 'surgical' instrument... It seemed rather meek of her to brandish this tiny hand cannon considering how many members of this cartel they had just bulldozed. Wouldn't it have been more practical to bring a hunting knife, or even something a bit more... messy? More than just a weird little gun...Those seemed more like her typical modus operandi, from what he had heard....

Cord looked her over. She resembled what Cord-Eel imagined an early century 'skateboarder' would have looked like... very skinny, but with an intense frame of muscles underneath. Her pants were big and baggy, causing them to visibly hang off her in a strange way. It wasn't too different than the style of outfit he had seen the other older hunters wearing, but it seemed a lot more... loose? maybe? than any of the others he had met. Regardless, it didn't seem to him like she had brought anything with her other than this pistol. What if she dropped it, or ran out of ammo? Was she really expecting just to punch and tear her way back out of the facility? Judging by the large amount of cyborgs they had just bulldozed through to get to the elevator, her light packing seemed almost irresponsible.

To him, Enny's head was also very strange looking, and reminded him of a wonky biker helmet. The wires poking out the back of her head were also very strange. They appeared to plug into a couple open ports on her spine... Wiring dangling outside of the body like that looked old-fashioned to him. She was like a person out of time, covered in dated tech and styles that a majority of his generation had left behind many years ago. The two of them appeared equally aged from a layman's view, being that they were about the same height, and it would be difficult to tell the exact age of a cyborg with heavy augmentations anyway. However, his body's augmentations were clearly the more recent and modern of the two, he thought to himself. He had been born after the wars had already finished, during the Peacemaker Era, so his tech wasn't inherently built for any form of combat, and was much more aesthetically appealing because of this.

Cord-Eel had a blue chassis. He was well-armored, but the angles of it were sleek and pointed, which made him look a bit like a humanoid motorcycle. Friends had compared him to a big plastic action figure, one that had been left out in the backyard for six years, and had become dirty and rusted. His armor's once beautiful blue sheen had grown dull, paint peeling from standing out in an unforgiving sun almost every day... The mechanical innards hidden between the armor had once resembled the engine and pistons of a sleek race car, but barely any of it functioned properly anymore. Only the essential life support for any organic parts that existed within him were in regular working order, the rest he had refused to have removed. There was no reason to, anyway. Good looks were essential for nabbing good jobs, he insisted. He was still holding out on the hope that someday he would encounter an elusive, uniquely skilled mechanic, who knew how to fix it all up for him and return his body to its former glory. He also hoped that said mechanic wouldn't charge him exorbitant fees for this procedure, despite the fact that his body was clearly a relic of a recent, but brief and unavoidably by-gone era of prosperity. It was unfortunately a bit of a pipe dream, he would admit, but he wouldn't let that stop him from saving up the credits for the day the repairs would finally come.

Cord also wore a big-rimmed hat, mostly in an attempt to protect his chassis' blue paint from peeling further. It was torn in some places, and a bit dirty. It did not do what he would have hoped it would do, and his paint had continued to chip since he had adopted it. Still, would never consider abandoning it, as he felt it had become distinct to his image.

This was also the case with the messy, rotting scarf around his shoulders that every other hunter he knew had some variation of, though Cord wasn't really sure why. He also wasn't sure if he'd been wearing it properly, because while he felt it looked extremely cool hanging behind him like a superhero cape, it definitely had zero practical application other that being the only thing on his person indicating he was a genuine bounty hunter to other people... Though he did have his katana, which honestly, wasn't a very common weapon for a bounty hunter to carry, so...

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

"Cord, you're staring at me."

He glanced up to her face. She was glaring him down with her little green LEDs. He had been looking dead-faced in her direction for about five minutes straight, though mentally he had been completely zoned out.

"Sorry," he mumbled, stifling a longer response. He couldn't ignore her menacing presence, though he wasn't scared of her. She was most likely deceptively weak, he supposed, looking her over briefly once again. Enevelen seemed to him like the type that didn't actually have much in the way of strength or defensive skill, but most likely carried a lot of her jobs by experience alone. She had obviously been through some traumatic events... but that didn't mean he couldn't get the jump on her.

Her legs were likely a weak point, he supposed. One or two slashes with his sword around the kneecaps would at least slow her down some. She seemed to bend her knees a lot when taking a fighting stance, which meant they would likely be a muscle she was heavily reliant on during a physical altercation. Knocking out a sniper's sight is the usual recommended strategy to incapacitate their attacks, so maybe a quick hilt-bunt to the helmet would do the trick as well...? The handle of his sword could easily crack and distort whatever thin, tinted glass made up her visor. He supposed the whole interaction would take five seconds or less, two or three swings of the katana. She would have no time to react.

He watched as Enevelen starred on, the elevator continuing to roll down into the pit. She was like a statue, but periodically she would look down at her gun. It was honestly impossible to know how she might have been feeling, which was frustrating to him, though not an unfamiliar feeling with most cyborgs. It was rare to see any of the older hunters especially convey any emotion. Cord watched as her eyes danced around behind the visor with that faint, shifting green glow. She seemed to be deep in thought.

"You were in the war, right?" He asked, attempting to break the silence.

She turned to him, looking directly into his eyes. It was a startling change of expression to him. He stepped back instinctively.

"Which one do you mean?" she asked.

He was confused by the response.

"Ah, um, the one before... before the Peacemaker Era? I guess? I forget what it was called..."

She looked away, glancing off towards the elevator door in what could have been a sign of amusement.

"There were actually... at least six simultaneous wars occurring before the Peacemaker Era. I wouldn't have expected you to know that, of course, since you were clearly born either during or after they concluded."

Cord-Eel nodded anxiously, "Yes, I was first modded about mid-era."

"Which um, which one... ones... were you involved in? I only heard that you were in the 'war' at some point, but I guess I don't know which exactly."

She laughed.

"All of them, actually," she replied. "...And many, many more before that. In fact, I was probably involved in... almost every single conflict that occurred since The Formation took power in 2043."

Cord-Eel watched as she looked back down at her gun, gripping it with two hands in front of her lower torso and looking down at the floor. He wasn't sure what that body language meant, possibly pride, but maybe the topic had instead made her agitated, or uncomfortable.

"I... guess you've killed a lot of people!" he awkwardly choked out, in a lame attempt at what felt like a joke.

She nodded.

He was embarrassing himself, he could tell.

"I've heard about the Formation," Cord followed up, "I was uh... they were before my time, like you just said of course but... y'know I hear stories."

Enny didn't reply.

He laughed to himself slightly, to kind of elevate the awkward air he felt pervading the space, but it didn't do much to alleviate his discomfort. Maybe tempting an older hunter with a split bounty wasn't such a good idea, he thought. He was just making a fool of himself.

"Should probably admit while I'm already in the process of embarrassing myself that I honestly do kind of idolize you."

Enny didn't reply.

"Not in like a weird way I mean, but like, you hear so many rumors, about the extent of your skills... your battles... all of that, y'know, you're like a real veteran. You've seen some shit. I'm not saying I envy that of course, I'm sure it's really screwed you up to some extent, but I'm imagining it really hardens a person."

She remained silent, but gave him a knowing glance.

"I mean, well like, okay. I know that's probably dismissive. War changes a person, I know that. I've had a good chunk of my family killed by this cartel. I really get it. I do! I swear, I have buckets of trauma... I just mean like. I've seen what you're able to do, y'know, I've been able to observe your obviously incredibly impressive strategic ability in action..."

"Have you now."

"Yes! I just wanna say like, god you are impressive, you know? You're a real... modern-day Amazonian, I think."

Enny turned to him, clutching her gun tightly.

"Do you really mean that honey?"

Cord-Eel sensed a tinge of irony in her response. He laughed again awkwardly.

"Yeah, yeah I do. I know it's sappy but I'd consider you an inspiration, I guess. A big influence, even, if I'm honest."

Enny pointed her gun to the floor and fired it into his foot. He screamed in mixture of pain and surprise.

"I really despise your attitude, honey" she spoke loudly, and sternly over his shouts, "I shouldn't have to tell you this but... I'm not the kind of person you really want to imitate. This is not a line of work where killers should be glorified or... idolized."

Cord shouted a creative string of expletives while attempting to unsheathe his sword, but Enevelen had unhooked and kicked it behind herself while he had been busy nursing his injured foot on the floor. In an attempt to knock her down, he attempted to rip a loose piece of scrap metal from the wall of the old elevator and jam it into her ankle, but his vision was blurry, and she managed to step away from the attack with ease. In response, she slammed his mechanical head to the floor with her foot, which made him yelp in frustration as he struggled against her strength.

"A certain level of pain tolerance would be good next step, by the way. I don't know if it would make you any stronger against a 'veteran' like me, but at least you wouldn't be so impeded by the shock."

...

The elevator had finally reached the bottom floor, and the doors slid open to reveal what looked to be a surprisingly clean and well-cared for lounge environment, complete with a working television and several comfy-looking chairs. A reception desk sat in the distance, though seemingly absent an actual receptionist. Uninteresting music was playing quietly over a sound system.

In the immediate vicinity of the elevator door stood a man in a business suit, seemingly waiting for their arrival while chatting up two other men. They all had mostly humanoid flesh faces, with subtle seams along their cheeks and around their ears where wired augmentations had been lain to interface with their brains.

Their jolly demeanor turned when they saw the occupants of the elevator before them, unfortunately. The men stared in shock at the young, blue cyborg on the floor, curled into the fetal position in a pool of oil and his own tears, sobbing hysterically, and Enny who stood in the middle of the elevator with her food on his head, silenced pistol pointed directly between the eyes of one of the men.

In a moment of lucidity, the man blurted out angrily at Cord, "God damn it kid, what did I bother paying you for? You barely scratched her!"

Enevelen laughed at the comment, before pulling the trigger.

The other two men stared in shock as they watched their colleague's lifeless body slam down onto on the linoleum of the office floor. Bits of his brain and an ungodly amount of blood painted the ground like a chemical spill, the men's shoes squishing and squelching as they screamed and struggled to maintain their balance on the wet floor as they attempted to escape the scene.

Enevelen powered down her weapon, the barrel still smoking. She tapped at the elevator panel, sending her and Cord-Eel's silent, shaking body back towards the surface.

She glanced down at him, having removed her foot and bending over to tap his shoulder with the end of her silencer.

"Hey Cord-Eel, did I hear him say he already paid you?"

Cord did not reply.

She chuckled to herself, "We should go get some ice cream or something, swap notes maybe."