With lightning speed, the Crek effortlessly parried Haiden’s attack, the clash of their weapons reverberating through the surroundings. The impact forced the Crek backwards, its heavy footsteps crunching on the forest floor, creating a symphony of sound. Meanwhile, Khalil seized the opportunity and took aim - a clean shot to the head.
A voice crackled through their communication device, “My sensor’s are showing movement headed your way from the center of the Enclave. You better move your asses.” The urgency in Khan's tone was clear. The words hung in the air, mingling with the tension that gripped the team.
Before they could react, two more Crek emerged from the dense foliage racing towards them, their Zeqits in hand. Rapid gunfire erupted once again, but it seemed futile as the Crek pressed forward, their relentless advance accompanied by the sound of their heavy footfalls. A grim realization settled in - the Crek possessed a formidable defense mechanism within their veins, granting them enhanced healing abilities. The team knew their only chance was to target the head or the heart.
With precision, lasers found their mark, ending the current threat. “Let’s move!” Andy’s voice broke through the stillness, urgency lacing his words. They picked up their pace, the crunch of their boots on the forest floor resonating with determination. The tension amongst the team was thick as they hurried towards their destination, guns held tightly in their hands.
When the playground came into view, a sight stopped them in their tracks. A man stood before them, gripping a long stick made of the same mysterious material as the Zeqits. But what caught their attention was the vibrant green coursing through multiple artery veins, visible through his skin. It was a sight none of them had ever witnessed before; The normal Crek body had only one major artery that glowed with the striking neon green color.
A hint of astonishment mingled with the fear that gripped Andy’s hearts. This Crek seemed different - his eyes held a vibrant intensity, and a smile graced his face, an expression they had never seen on a Crek before. It was a disconcerting sight, one that sent chills down his spines.
“Jack-Jack?” A tremor laced Thomas’ voice as he whispered through the com, his words filled with disbelief and uncertainty. This unexpected encounter with Jack, Thomas’ young cousin, left them reeling with shock. Andy met Jack many times in the past. Thomas’ family welcomed Jack into their home after he suffered abuse and neglect at the hands of his drug-addicted parents. He was supposed to be three E-month light-clicks away. His untimely demise was not relayed to Thomas, leaving them unaware of his conversion.
Standing beside Jack were four Crek, their appearance seemingly normal. Andy strained his eyes, trying to discern any subtle differences. The sight of Jack behaving differently, turning his head and nodding, sent a wave of unease through the team. Without hesitation, the other Crek sprinted towards them, their footsteps thudding against the ground.
As the chaos ensued, the sound of rifles being fired pierced through the air. Andy’s senses heightened as he focused on the safety of the civilians and the fragile life of an infant. With a swift hand gesture, he signaled for a hasty retreat, urgency and determination fueling their every move. The ground beneath their feet seemed to vibrate as they ran, kicking up dirt and fallen leaves in their path. They pushed forward, their muscles aching with every step, the adrenaline coursing through their veins. Sweat dripped down their foreheads, mixing with the dirt that clung to their skin. The sight of Crek falling brought a momentary relief, but the battle was far from over. More Crek burst from the treeline.
Just as they reached the entrance, the thundering sound of pounding footsteps grew alarmingly close. The tight confines of the corridor offered some respite, but the relentless Crek kept coming.
In the corridor, Andy’s eyes widened as Khalil stumbled over a lifeless body, a stark reminder of the grim terrain they found themselves in. Thomas and Elliot, unable to shoot and run simultaneously, swiftly secured their rifles and drew their laser swords. The crackling white light illuminated the corridor, casting eerie shadows on the walls as the swords emitted a swooshing sound.
“ARM!” called out Elliot, his sword clashing with that of the Crek’s and a loud crackle split the air. With the call to arms, everyone stopped running to face and fight the oncoming horde. Haiden and Clarke joined the fray, their swords colliding in a flurry of sparks and a cacophony of ringing steel. Meanwhile, Andy and Khalil stood firm, their rifles trained forward, their senses on high alert, scanning the front and listening for anything behind them.
Time seemed to stand still as the team turned to face the relentless horde, their focus solely on the battle at hand. The cries of the infant were drowned out by the clashing of swords, the metallic sound reverberating through the corridor. Owen realized they were outmatched and hastily thrust the wailing infant into the scientist’s arms. But just as he began his Sabor attack, a Crek charged out of the shadows, heading straight for him.
As he prepared to defend himself, the sound of his falchion joined the fray. Owen, by sheer luck, managed to step back just in time, his sword flashing as he raised it to defend himself. Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision, as his trembling arms struggled to hold his sword steady. His blind swing connected with the Crek’s hands, slicing through flesh and bone, and the blue-red blood sprayed across the ground, joining the crimson pool already there. Then, just as quickly, Clarke thrust her weapon into the creature’s head in a sickening squelch.
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But Owen, too consumed by his own battle to fully register his surroundings. As the lifeless Crek fell to the ground, Owen screamed, his voice filled with fear, and in his frenzy, he swung his sword with such force that it sliced through the neck of a scientist that just bumped into him.
The sickening thud of the sword hitting flesh and bone reverberated through the air, accompanied by the sight of the lifeless body falling next to Owen. Andy, witnessing the chaos, strapped his gun, the metallic click barely audible amidst the commotion. He pulled out his laser falchion, its faint hum filling the air, and urgently instructed Khan to prepare for an emergency evacuation.
Racing towards Owen, he could feel the heat of the battle radiating from the corridor, his heart pounding in his chest. He grasped Owen’s arm, his grip tight, and his voice filled with urgency as he hissed, “You can deal with this later, I need you to go with Khalil and get the scientists to the jet. You got it?” Andy refused to release his grip until Owen met his gaze, his eyes filled with despair, and nodded in understanding.
However, as two surviving scientists moved to follow, another Crek emerged from behind them. In a moment of panic or self-preservation, the scientist holding the infant threw the bundle towards the Crek as he turned to flee. Time seemed to slow as the Crek swiftly raised its sword, the obsidian blade slicing through the bundle and the piercing cries abruptly silenced. Andy’s senses recoiled from the sight and sound, but he forced himself to push it aside for later reflection.
With determination, he charged at the Crek, his footsteps echoing in the corridor. The corpses littering the hallway momentarily threw the Crek, a formidable opponent despite its inhuman nature, off balance, hindering both Andy’s team and the creature itself. Seizing the opportunity, Andy relentlessly attacked, each slash of his blade accompanied by a burst of adrenaline. He waited for the perfect opening, knowing it would come. Then it did. He thrust his blade directly into the Crek’s heart. The sickly green poison oozed from the wound, mingling with the dark grey, almost black, blood.
Andy’s gaze shifted to his team, their figures blurred amidst the chaos, and his eyes caught sight of Jack using his foot to dislodge a long stick that had impaled Clarke’s eye. Clarke’s lifeless eyes, no longer reflecting the world, added to the growing numbers surrounding them.
Anger, burning and fierce, consumed every fiber of Andy’s being. The metallic sound of the unsheathing reverberated through the air, adding to the tension of the moment. The sight of his second scimitar, gleaming in the harsh light, heightened his determination. With each step he took towards Jack, the burning anger and hatred grew.
As the clash of swords begun, the clang of metal on metal reverberated through the air, each strike accompanied by a shower of sparks. Andy moved with the swing, each arc a silent reminder of the countless hours he had spent perfecting this effortless dance. Andy’s muscles strained with each swing, the effort etched on his face, beads of sweat rolling down his brow. The acrid smell of burning flesh filled his nostrils as his blade found its mark, slicing along Jack’s arms.
But then, a sudden jolt disrupted the rhythm of battle. Andy’s foot twisted painfully as it collided with a discarded boot. Jack, taking advantage of the slip, moved the long-stick sliced in a downward arc. A sharp agony shot through Andy’s side, the sensation of warm blood seeping through his torn uniform.
A long, jagged gash, stretching from his chest to his hip, marred Andy’s right side. With adrenaline coursing through his veins, Andy fought through the pain. The sickening thud of his foot connecting with Jack’s body, sending Jack flying backwards with a jolt, caused the wound to throb with fresh pain, each pulse a searing agony.
A voice pierced through the haze of pain. “Worthington! Let’s move!” Hollard Elliot’s urgent command, pulling him back to reality.
But it was the hysterical laughter that followed that sent a shiver down his spine, a chilling sound that echoed in his ears.
The urgency propelled him forward, his heart pounding in his chest. Every step he took reverberated through his injured hip, a constant reminder of his vulnerability.
Too focused on the battle, Andy missed his team’s escape. But in his haste to follow, he made a fatal mistake. His attention shifted from his enemy for just a moment, and in that instant, searing frigid pain ripped through his hip, a sharp, stinging sensation that shot through his entire body. Reflex took over, and he slammed his sword down towards the source, the impact vibrating up his arm.
It wasn’t until he heard the sound of hysterical laughter, a manic cacophony, that he dared to look back. And there, sprawled on the ground, was Jack, his hand clutching his collarbone, blood seeping through his fingers. The sight of the green-mixed-red liquid sent a wave of nausea crashing over him.
Determined not to dwell on the fear of what this meant threatened to consume him, Andy sprinted down the hallway, the pounding of his footsteps matching the pounding of his heart. Every step was calculated, careful not to trip over debris scattered on the floor. As he neared the end of the corridor, he caught sight of the twins and Spot standing guard, their weapons at the ready. The tension in the air was a heavy weight that seemed to suffocate him.
Spot turned towards him, his eyes narrowing, and aimed his gun directly at Andy. But Andy didn’t falter, didn’t slow down. He continued to sprint, the sound of gunfire ringing in his ears, the hot gust of wind from the laser grazing past his face.
Andy ran straight ahead, his trust in their skills unwavering. Time was running out, and he had to make it to the jet. As he passed the twins, a surge of adrenaline propelled him forward. In one swift motion, all four of them leapt into the waiting aircraft, their bodies moving in perfect synchrony.
Inside the jet, Green, the mechanical arm, swung into action, plugging the hull’s edge back in with a resounding clang, the sound reverberating through the cabin. It welded the metal together, sealing any leaks for the air to escape, in case there were any survivors left behind.