A few hours after the fight...

The boy was walking down the forest, his steps staggering, his left arm tightly holding his stomach, the black-colored, fingerless glove, and his fingers slowly covering in the dark red blood from a wound. He moves his arm away from the wound, with a handle of what seems to be bayonet sticking out of the very center of his stomach, barely holding the blood flow out of the wound. He grunts, grasping his knife and slowly kneeling down to a dead man, tugging on their shirt and starting to cut it. A few minutes of careful cutting have granted the boy a black-green rag made from thick, synthetic fibers. He slowly sits down, leaning against a tree, knowing that what comes next will be anything but enjoyable. Bracing himself, the boy sets aside his knife, then grabs the handle of the bayonet stuck in his stomach, with a momentary memory popping up in his mind: a soldier that has rammed him with their rifle, a sharp sting of pain quickly suppressed as, using his own knife, the boy pierces through the man's neck and the soft dark green uniform fiber protecting the neck. Black blade piercing into the neck, with blood splattering on the boy's black jacket, the man's armor, and the grass, the choking sound of the soldier letting go of the rifle, desperately grabbing their neck, trying to stop the bleeding, yet all in vain as they fall down dead. The boy returns to his memories, staring down at the bayonet. With a silent sigh, he grasps the handle with one arm, with the other holding the "rag," ready to put it against the wound. In a swift moment, he pulls the bayonet out, his breath becoming ragged and shaky, putting the rag against the wound. The boy grunts and whispers under his nose:

"Son of a bitch..."

With that, he ties the rag around his body, stopping the bleeding. Feeling weak, he sighs and allows himself to be knocked out, his body going limp, hidden by the high grass, his head slowly tilting to the left, leaning on the tree...

In the city: government building

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

A dark figure steps up to the table of the governor, slowly and triumphantly sliding their arm across the table, then walks up to the tinted window behind the table, easily seeing how the main street of the city slowly fills with soldiers building fortifications around the place, their faces covered by a small, smug smile that widens when they see a soft blue glow rising from the ground up and into the sky, covering the governmental building with what seems to be a dark blue bubble. A silent beeping sound emits from the table, and with a single, gracious move by the person's right arm, the beeping stops, and a loud yet sustained male voice speaks up from what seems to be the table itself.

"Governor Ca..."

The man was cut off by the "Governor," their voice somewhat distorted, hiding their identity from the unworthy servant of theirs.

"I want the report, Alexander."

"Right, I'm sorry. The defenses of the governmental building are ready."

A proud nod has come from the person, their smug smile never leaving their face, as the man, Alexander, continued reporting.

"The rebellion in the forest was pushed back from the city."

The smug smile has turned into a grin as the person proudly lights up a cigarette, letting out a puff of smoke.

"But subject X1 has been detected."

Upon hearing that, they almost spit out the cigarette, turning around and slamming their fists on the table. Their voice sounded furious.

"What do you mean subject X1 has been detected?! You've given me a report; they are dead!"

A silent whimper was heard from the man. Startled by the fury of the person, they replied with a shaky voice, as if trying to excuse themselves.

"It was the initial report from the commando unit on place!"

The governor spits the cigarette out, crushing it with their feet. They're furious and mumble under their breath.

"Commandos... I should've known this bastard found a way around them. Alexander!"

"Y-yes, governor?"

The man replies with relief in their voice, seeing as he's getting away without consequences.

"Lock the city down; I want all information available on the X1 subject and a report on their actions in the city immediately!"

Without awaiting an answer from the man, they snap, cutting off the communication. They start walking back and forth around their huge, luxurious room as two guard droids stand right near the entrance. They look at the Droids, with dozens, if not hundreds, of thoughts rushing through their minds. They knew little of Project X, especially its most successful outcome, X1. All they knew was that they were a greater threat than all those puny, useless people in the city.