Ark breathed. Pulling back the bolt, he pushed out the spent cartridge, then pushed it back in, reloaded. Looking down the sight, he tried for a second shot. Rex was too quick though. After catching Jenson, she had thrown herself into cover behind a rocky outcrop.
—One down— He said across his shared comms with Mino —I have to relocate—
—Understood— Mino’s voice was calm, but with an edge to it —I’ve got incoming—
—Give me five minutes— Ark stood up from his prone position, picking up the sniper rifle that Harkon had prepared for him. It was old—from before the World Break—it’s steel and stock painted a deep black. According to Harkon, it was called an MK 22, a weapon from a bygone age. Yet, it had already proved itself worthy.
He still felt the thrill of keeping his target in the crosshairs, holding a life in his hands, even if merely simulated. The force of the recoil as he pulled the trigger still echoed in his hands, and the steady thump of his heart had skipped a beat when the recoil shattered the silence.
Two hundred meters further down the narrow chasm, he could see the red dot that represented Rex daring to inch closer to the edge of her cover. Beside her, Mark’s red dot was still active, since he was not actually dead—merely in simulated death. Beside him, though, Ark felt a hint of regret, looking at the blue dot that was slowly fading away.
He would have to pay for that later. For now, he needed to move back and get closer to Mino. Rex would not move unless she thought him gone, or if she found a way to circumvent him—she was too clever for him to simply wait. Besides, he did not have time.
He and Mino had spawned in a looped chasm, which had forced them to split up to cover both ends. With Rex and Jenson here that left Ran and Naomi on Mino’s end, and Ark was not sure his friend would be able to hold out for long.
Hefting the rifle on his shoulder, he stealthily moved back, keeping an eye on his map as well as the view from Mino’s perspective. As soon as he thought he could get away with it, his careful jog turned into a sprint. He would make it. He had to.
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Ran breathed. He was good at that. Holding his spear at a ready position, he moved into the darkness, sensing his opponent was in there. He could feel the movement of air from the subtle movements the enemy made through the air.
“How long?” Naomi said from behind.
Ran did not look back or ask for what she meant. He knew what she wanted to know.
“Two minutes,” he said, matter-of-fact. It was not confidence or pride that informed his evaluation of his foe, but simple truth. He was better. His enemy would die.
The world was simple when you thought of it in those terms. Simulated or not, death was death—easier to figure out how to act in accordance with that than a simple game.
“Be careful. Something is different with them,” she said, a tone of worry in her voice.
“As you wish,” Ran said, adjusting his stance slightly to incorporate more defense. They had both heard the thunderclap moments earlier, and knew it had to be something their opponents had prepared. It made caution acceptable.
His core spun as he called upon psions to reinforce the watery shield of force he surrounded himself with, which was a powerful extension to his senses. It was this shield that allowed him to feel the presence of the hidden foe in the darkness. While his eyes could not penetrate the darkness, he had a rough idea of how far away they were.
Similarly, he sensed Naomi standing back, holding an arrow to her bow, waiting for him to give her an opportunity. It was well that she kept her distance—the darkness would make it difficult for him to protect her and fulfill his duty. He could accept that they were pitted against one another at times, but when they were on the same team, Ran’s purpose was clear.
With balanced movements, he advanced with this purpose in mind. Protect his charge, destroy her enemies. Life was simple.
His opponent, however, was making things complicated, and Ran did not appreciate it. Trained to fight in all manner of terrain, Ran did not believe that the darkness would diminish his abilities, and yet there was something heavy and foreboding about the cloak of shadows he stepped into.
This was a narrow part of the chasm labyrinth, where visibility was lower than elsewhere. They had passed through other areas like it before this, and yet it felt different here—more oppressive.
That worried Ran, although he still believed in his estimate. Two minutes.
Rocks shifted, as his opponent moved. Ran felt it more than he saw, and he leveled his spear and drew upon the shield around him. Still at least ten meters away, he thrust his spear forward and called upon the psions to follow the flow.
The shield around him turned into a revolving tornado, centered on his spear as he completed his motion. The revolving force turned into an intangible spear of its own, following the thrust in a linear motion, straight at his opponent’s chest.
A grunt in the darkness was all he heard, following the heavy sound of his attack hitting a shield.
Having confirmed the position, Ran waited a moment for an arrow to streak by. Another wooden ‘thunk’ echoed through the narrow chasm, and Ran moved. With powerful steps, he lunged, psions swirling around the tip of his spear as he finally came close enough to see the enemy.
As big as himself, Ran saw that Mino wielded a wide shield along with a hammer—as he had done before, but another weapon was placed in his belt. An ax rested there, it’s edge a deadly instrument made to rend flesh and crush bone.
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That weapon does not suit you, Ran thought, but kept silent. He had long learned it was a more useful skill to know when to speak, rather than just knowing how to. He followed his observation with a thrust to Mino’s midriff, but his opponent deflected the blow with the shield and twisted it away, skillfully stepping into range.
Releasing one hand from the shaft of his spear, Ran commanded the shield around him forward, meeting the hammerblow with enough force to make Mino stumble backward.
With a turn, Ran whirled the haft of his spear at Mino’s legs. It collided with enough force to have thrown a lesser man off his feet, but Mino merely grunted as he took the blow.
Face twitching, Ran realized he might have miscalculated. While his opponent was slow, he could take a hit.
Three minutes, then.
He turned again, this time twisting away as he felt another arrow coming. Without looking, he tilted his head just enough to feel the whistle of wind in his hair. It hit Mino square in the shoulder, and made the giant stagger backward once more.
Following up the blow, Ran moved in once more, spear striking like a snake. While Mino desperately deflected as much as he could, Ran got through his guard with three strikes, hitting Mino’s right thigh twice and scoring a glancing blow at his ribs.
Still, the giant barely reacted. Instead, his attacks grew more forceful, increasing in speed.
Furrowing his brow, Ran had to once more reassess. He did not like this. It was getting too complicated. Four minutes.
While they fought in close-combat, Ran once again twisted away as another arrow flew true, hitting Mino in his wounded thigh. As the opponent lost his balance, Ran drew his intangible shield up in front of him and formed it into a hammer. Smashing it into Mino with all his force, Ran moved to follow it up with a final blow.
The giant fell backward with another grunt, almost falling onto his back. Still, he kept standing, and Ran’s unease grew. This was not how it was supposed to go. His estimates were from seeing Mino fight and train, and even if there was something that the giant had hidden, Ran’s guess should still have been close.
Clenching his jaw, He threw himself into the fight, stabbing and pushing Mino ever backward, and yet he could not make the opponent fall.
Five minutes, Ran almost screamed inside his own head, frustration rising. This was a failure of the highest order, almost as bad as if he had let his mistress get hurt—
In that very moment, cold shivers ran down his spine, as another presence entered the battlefield. It crept closer in stealth, and Ran’s focus on the battle had made him miss the signs. Eyes widening, he stepped back and looked over his shoulder, seeing Naomi standing too far away for him to reach.
No, he thought, realizing the ploy. He would not allow it. Calling upon all of his strength to dash back and shield Naomi, Ran was about to abandon the fight when the darkness drew in around him.
“No, you don’t,” Mino said, his voice calm and steady.
Neck creaking like wooden boards, Ran fought to keep true to his purpose, to remember his charge, but something dark and twisted called on him to look back—to look upon the enemy he needed to defeat.
Mino stood still, waiting, arms outstretched, having dropped the shield upon the ground. Instead, he held out the ax in one hand, hammer in the other. Wreathed in darkness, he was like a demon calling upon Ran, taunting him. Where soft brown eyes had once looked upon the world with calm acceptance, they were now red, singed with an uneasy hatred that bore into Ran’s bones and forced him to face this evil creature.
I will not fail. Teeth bared and his face twisted, Ran rushed forward, attacking with a newfound fury and desperation that he had seldom felt. He knew what was about to happen, even if he was not entirely sure of how. She was going to die. The skulking presence in the darkness was preparing, waiting, aiming. Meanwhile, Ran could only attack the opponent in front of him, rending his flesh with simulated pain as he hit him with his spear again, and again, and…
The monster just took his blows and attacked right back, scoring several glancing blows to Ran’s arms. He will not fall, Ran knew it now. While he was superior, Mino was not there to beat him; just hold him for long enough to—
A thunderclap rang out through the chasm. Frozen in fear, Ran felt his mistress stagger behind him. His failure was complete. Then and there, he lost all reason. For the first time in a long time, Ran screamed.
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Ark saw Naomi go down, her body flopping to the ground as the simulation took hold of her nervous system. Drawing back the bolt and reloading, he heard the spine-tingling scream from Ran as the spear wielder assaulted Mino with such ferocity that Ark could almost feel the blows from his position.
Seeing the situation deteriorate, Ark immediately focused on his breath and tried to find his shot. However, Ran was moving like a tornado and Ark did not have enough practice to hit a moving target, especially not one that moved like Ran.
Gritting his teeth, he dared to send Mino a message, risking to distract his friend.
—Retreat, try to get back here. I’ll distract him—
Ark put the rifle down and closed his eyes, dreading what was to come. Within his netlink, he summoned the command to recharge his job skill. Briefly, its description flashed within his mind’s eye, before he dismissed it to begin the process.
Conduit job skill: Simulacrum
Description…
Cost…
Skipping the details of the skill, Ark felt the netlink boot up the recharge protocol. Even though he was in a hurry, Ark still clenched his eyes shut and prepared himself mentally. He had gone through this in simulation before, but knowing what was coming still made him hesitate ever so slightly. Opening his right eye slightly, Ark saw Mino had not retreated, but instead thrown himself into the fight with renewed ferocity. Ark swallowed the instinct to hail Mino on the comm. There was no time.
Gritting his teeth, Ark closed his eyes again, knowing this had to be done. With bated breath, Ark activated the recharge process. Immediately, he saw a vision of Jenson with his sword held high, a mask of triumph on his face. Then the sword fell; then there was pain. Molten steel flowing from the crown of his neck to the base of his spine; the pain of getting his skull split apart wrecked Ark’s entire system, forcing every muscle in his body to spasm. Though the process was instantaneous, and the resulting pain a brief memory before collapse, it felt like an eternity.
Gasping, Ark’s eyes fluttered open as the pain receded, knowing he had no time to dawdle. With a breath that felt like broken shards of glass, he shakily got onto his feet, drawing his gun from a holster on his side. Swallowing, he spoke the command word out loud, “Split”
It was like stepping out of a shower; one moment inside the heat of water, the next standing outside in the cold of air. He stepped out of himself, and stood face to face with an exact copy.
Two sets of gray eyes stared into one another, reflections of who they were. Like one, they both raised their guns and nodded. “Let’s do this,” they spoke in unison, although one merely mouthed the words in emulation. There could only be one real Ark, after all.