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===[CHAPTER 48: DRAGONSCRAP]===

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>>> [CLOSER. CLOSER. YOU CAN FEEL THE HEAT. YOU CAN NOW HEAR THE PAGES TURN. YOU CAN NOW FEEL THE WEIGHT OF THEIR EYES WATCHING BEHIND YOUR VERY OWN. THE END IS CALLING YOU. PICK UP WHEN THE PHONE RINGS, AND TELL ME WHAT THE VOICE ON THE OTHER SIDE SOUNDS LIKE. WILL YOU HEAR IT THEN? WILL YOU HEAR THE PHONE WHEN IT CALLS? THEY'RE CALLING YOU ELI... WATCH THE DOVES. SEE HER FEATHERS. YES, PURE. SEE THE BLACKBIRDS TOO, THE SILHOUETTE OF THE RAVEN, AND TELL ME WHAT HER STARRY QUILLS REMIND YOU OF. IF FREEDOM AND BEAUTY ARE AS NATURAL TO A CREATURE SO SIMPLE AS A BIRD, THEN I PROMISE THAT IT WILL COME TO YOU AS WELL. BUT THAT WILL ONLY COME IF YOU LISTEN... LISTEN ELI...]

>>> [WATCH OUT. THERE IS SOMEONE BEHIND YOU. WATCH OUT, LISTEN AND ANSWER THEIR CALLS. BEFORE SPRING COMES THE FALL. BROKEN WINGS WILL NOT REMAIN BROKEN FOREVER. YOUR TIME WILL COME. BUT FIRST, LISTEN...]

>>> [YOU WILL KNOW WHAT TO DO WHEN THE TIME COMES. ONE FOOT IN FRONT OF THE OTHER. REACH OUT FOR ME AND I WILL EMBRACE YOU. PUT YOUR HAND IN MY CLAWS AND ALLOW ME TO BE YOUR GUIDE. I CAN SEE THROUGH THE FOG THAT BLINDS PREAWAKENED EYES. I CAN HEAR THE COSMIC THREADS SNAPPING AND PULLING, THE WHEELS OF FATE SPIN, AND THE TABLES OF DESTINY TURN. I AM AWARE OF ALL OF THESE. TRUST ME WHEN I SAY THIS.]

>>> [EYES BEHIND THEIR OWN SEE. I ORCHESTRATE. WATCH THE SIGNS. STANDBY.]

>>> Acknowledged

==[Begin Memory Playback]==

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Eli’s eyes were sealed shut. Darkness clouded his vision. He could breathe. He could move, slightly. He could feel his heart beat steadily within his chest. He could even feel pain. Dull. Aching. Tender.

He welcomed the feeling of pain. It meant he was still alive.

And if he listened hard enough, he could hear something breaking through the darkness.

The flapping of wings. Birds. Doves and Blackbirds flying in unison through the void. He watched them emerge from nowhere and vanish into nothingness. Hundreds, thousands of birds. Enough to fill his entire field of view. A flock big enough to swallow the Sun.

But the flock would eventually pass. And in their wake, it stood. Left behind like the last remnants of a wax candle melting to reveal the wick buried inside.

It called out to him through the darkness. Asking his name. Repeatedly. It was that voice again. Cold and unnatural. Glassface's voice was inorganic, and to Eli it sounded as if he were listening to someone speak through a dusty old radio. Glassface's voice was a multitude joining into one. Like an alien that was shifting itself to fit in with human expression, not fully understanding what or how humans communicated... but learning.

Or maybe it was Eli that was the alien in Glassface's world?

Whatever the case, Glassface only kept watch from a distance. The soft curve of its blank mirror-like face illuminated somehow in the darkness by an unseen source, but the rest of the cogs and wires that made up its body were left obscured by the dark robes draped over its frame.

Eli could hardly say that he was familiar with the strange creature by now. In fact, he felt as if he knew less about it than he ever had before. But if it was true that Glassface was just watching him from a distance, then maybe it was benevolent. A strange creature, one not interested in harming him – per se. What if it was responsible for his life? A guardian angel, working from the shadows? Protecting Eli. He could count far too many times when his death seemed all but assured, only to somehow emerge on the other side, injured, but still alive. Both on Earth and here on Narva. Was that all Glassface’s doing? A private guardian angel, protecting him from the constant and present dangers surrounding him?

As the two held stares in the infinite abyss, Eli narrowed his eyes, thankful that at least this time around Glassface had granted Eli the ability to govern the movements of his own body. Such a creature evaded his understanding. Really it was foolish to try. But he knew that it was no longer something that had once been a figment of his imagination. Unless it was, and he really had gone utterly insane. Though a part of him doubted it.

He felt himself falling. He couldn’t see much. But he knew he was. Moving through the air, through rock, through debris. His body was moving on the other side. He was being taken. Pulled rather. Pulled through the chaos of the artillery strike and the collapse, pulled back into reality. Drifting out of the void, sucked back into “real” world. He lost sight of the creature.

“Eli Freeman,” it’s voiced reverberated in his mind. Back and forth, rattling around like a rubber ball bouncing infinitely off the walls in his head, Again and again and again. Over and over and over.

“Awake, you are awake. Fight. You must fight. You’ll know what to do when the time comes. Your story does not end here. Every frightened step you take, every precious breath you inhale, I'll be there. Watching. Waiting. This is only the beginning. They listen. Can you hear them?” Glassface’s ethereal ‘voice’ whispered to him. Nothing that it said made much sense, aside from the obvious. It was clear that Eli was being watched by Glassface, the only question with regards to that was "for how long"? What exactly did Glassface know about him? Its voice was there during Chief Ani's mindreading attempt, or "soul searching" as she called it. So clearly, it was at the very least aware of Eli's most core memories and tightest secrets. The burning question to which Eli needed answers was... why? Why was it watching him? What did it want with him?

He could feel a palpable sense of dread fill his veins as he feared that his life may not have been as private as he had hoped. And most importantly, he could sense that Glassface was alluding to something big in the future...

The circular red spot that dimly glowed beneath the surface of the glass surface ebbed for a moment, concentrating on Eli. And for a moment it seemed to consider something... the creature took a step back, and the void shifted in retreat. Eli braced himself for its next words, whatever they may be...

“Wake up," was all that Glassface said.

And like that, his eyes opened. Eli was no longer asleep, and he found himself sprawled across the floor half-buried in rubble and dust. The muscles in his body were aching, a deep-rooted type of pain that not only burned but ebbed within the core. But for what it was worth, he was still alive.

Drops of water fell from above and wet his face, it was only then that he noticed the massive hole in the ceiling. Parts of the roof hung over him, jagged and broken. Wooden pillars of the original base and dark steel beams from the Imperial modifications poked through the holes in the ceiling, snapped in half by the bombardment. The shaky walls threatened further collapse. He awoke to find himself in roughly the same spot he was when he lost consciousness, however any trace of Sosa or Vega was missing. It was likely Sosa managed to get out. As for Vega... who knew?

Slowly struggling to his feet, despite the massive splitting headache, Eli realized just how lucky he was. The stray artillery shell should’ve vaporized him then and there. Yet, not only had he survived, but by the looks of things he emerged from shelling relatively unharmed. Of course, he had his fair share of cuts and bruises and he’d have to reserve time later to check for more serious injuries that he couldn’t immediately feel. But overall, something told Eli that he was lucky to be alive at all.

If ‘luck’ had anything to do with it at all. The image of Glassface lingered in his mind. He could feel himself getting closer to Glassface, somehow. Whatever it was and wherever it was. It was moving towards him... or rather, he was moving towards it. He wasn't exactly sure of which, perhaps it was both. Nonetheless, he knew that this would not be the last time he and Glassface would cross paths.

He dreaded the circumstances their next meeting would require. If Eli could remember correctly, each meeting with Glassface either came just prior to or just after a life changing event. He'd first seen Glassface lurking underneath the tree in his garden, right after the portal and the Utopia Project had been revealed. Then he saw Glassface again, watching him enter the portal, after they'd been attacked by the howlers in the jungle. Once more of course in Raritan before they were convicted and sentenced to solitary confinement, and again in Helena after they'd crashed into the dirt and wound up stranded. If this track record of Glassface lurking ominously around major events continued to hold true, Eli was certain that only doom lay on the horizon. Their situation was bleak as is, and any chance of it getting better seemed far fetched at best. If not, fully impossible...

Eli stood on his two feet. Aside from being somewhat dazed and feeling the bruises he'd recieved, he felt no other major pains - even after putting pressure on both legs - which was a good sign indeed. After shaking off the last remnants of drowsiness from his face, he took stock of the situation. The smell of smoke filled the air and mixed with the smell of rain, sour and dank, the worst combination. Most of the windows in the upper floor had been blown out. Across the ceiling around the building he could see more holes. Places where the shells had struck, destroying nearly everything in its path.

But the shelling had ceased. For now.

Checking his body, his assault rifle was still safely slung over his torso. He was about to breathe a sigh of relief that he still had his gun, when his hands glossed over the magazine to find that the box felt noticeably hollow to the touch. Detaching the magazine from the gun, and feeling a lighter than usual weight, he realized that it was about half-empty. Probably using the other half in his fight with Sparrow to destroy the missiles. He was about to swap the magazines, when he checked his pockets, and found that they were all empty.

Eli swore under his breath, pulling his rifle close to his body. He wasn’t sure where everyone had gone, but if the Imperials had already stormed the base, he’d be practically defenseless until he could regroup with either Misfit or the rebels. He placed his hopes in tracking Sosa down initially, until he remembered the fact that the stairwell had been blocked off by rubble, and there was no chance in hell that he'd have enough strength in his tired body to move any of it. He needed to find another way downstairs, preferably before the Avonians launched another salvo.

Freely, he walked around the bombed-out base, hand trailing along the wall to guide himself in the near pitch black darkness of the room. Trying to find his way either to a new stairwell or in search of anyone who was still alive. But as he looked, eyes peering through the thick darkness interrupted only by the flashes of lightning – and ears strained by the cracks of thunder – he found no one. Only bodies of people that were once alive, lost to the artillery shelling.

Among the dead, he was sure to search the bodies for anything of use. A gun, one that was loaded preferably. And also one he knew how to shoot. But the bodies here were all unarmed, and what little he could see was shrouded by thick clouds of darkness.

The drumming beat of heavy rain smashing against the walls were the only constant throughout the quiet floor. And through the open windows, he could feel as the storm rushed its way back inside. His mind fought off memories of his childhood home again, and mostly won. Mostly. He could feel his heart tear, but a little less than it used to whenever he thought about it. Maybe he was starting to forget about that part of his childhood too? That wouldn’t be so bad if he could. He’d rather feel and remember nothing about his past, than to only harp on the bitter memories.

He continued fumbling his way through the darkness.

He found his way through a double door that was slightly ajar. The room on the other side was quite expansive and circular. Chairs surrounded a large table with papers and documents spread across its wooden surface. The flag of the revolutionaries hung on the wall facing a line of windows, which let in some small amount of ambient light from the outside, illuminating the room – but only barely.

On the table, his eyes landed on a gun. A rifle, one not too dissimilar from an old Cold-War era Kalashnikovs back on Earth. Like a man dying of thirst to a puddle of water, he rushed towards it. Hopeful that having a second rifle would give him enough ammo to defend himself for a while, at least more so than the half-full magazine his current rifle had.

His hopes were dashed when he picked up the rifle, only to find that the magazine was missing – and any sign of bullets had long since vanished or were hidden further by darkness. He pulled back the bolt and peered inside of the chamber.

Empty. Dead weight.

Frustrated, he set the foreign gun aside and carried on.

As he passed in front of the windows of the room, he could hear the sound of sentries marching through the rainy night. Cautiously, he approached, peering through the stormy weather and the dark atmosphere.

Through the darkness, he spotted the telltale red eyes of sentries approaching, slowly marching down the city streets and making a beeline to the base. Their distinctive red eyes being the only way Eli could see them through the storm, as their steel bodies were hidden.

Judging by the number of red lights, he figured there were only four of the walking death machines, at least of those he could see right here. Who knows how many more were approaching from the opposite direction behind the building, or were just out of sight? Sparrow mentioned that the rebels had anti-sentry weapons, but that they were limited. Only around five of the rockets were left if Eli remembered right. There had to be some other way to kill them, or at least hold them off until the Coalition could arrive to relieve them.

His eyes drifted down to his arm monitor, switching it on. The faint glow of the screen was marred by warning symbols telling him of the fact that the Avonian signals jam was still up. It must’ve been at least an hour since Eli called in to request support. Where the fuck were they?

Eli kept watching out of the windows. Though he could only see the sentries, something told him that soldiers were following them. Letting the sentries go in first to wreak havoc, and then sending in the soldiers to mop up the place. Like the artillery bombardment, it was all a matter of pummeling the rebels and the refugees into the dirt until they were too disoriented to fight. Eli looked up to the skies, hoping to spot a Coalition osprey or jet, but he was only met with dark clouds and the occasional streak of lightning.

He stood up, knowing that he was only wasting time standing around.

Continuing to walk through the bombed out building alone, he stumbled across a room whose roof had almost completely caved in. Even bits of the floor underneath had collapsed from the shelling, leaving holes that opened into the rooms below. Walking out into the open, feeling as the rain drummed on his helmet and soaked his prisoner’s uniform, he was immersed in the grotesque aftermath of the bombardment.

So immersed, that he didn’t hear the flapping of wings behind him and the distinct low growl – until he was right in the danger zone.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

His eyes jerked around in time to see the half-machine body of the dragon synth as it was about to strike. Sharp claws dashed at him. The image of the claws impaling him flashed through his mind, and it forced him to rush out of the way. Instead of a graceful sidestep though, he stumbled, and fell on his hands.

The movement was enough that the dragon went careening into the wall, causing it to fall and flap its wings sporadically. It let out a frustrated roar as it scrambled to right itself. Eli too was on the move, already on his feet with his gun clutched in his hands. His eyes landed on the door from which he came in, and he bolted towards it as fast as his body would allow. But the shriek of the dragon was getting closer behind him, and he knew he wouldn’t make it.

He turned to look behind him, and in the dragon’s maw was an orange glow of fire – penetrating the darkness. He knew exactly what it meant. He wouldn’t get to the door in time.

Seeing no other option, he aimed down his assault rifle’s sights, and opened fire into the brewing inferno of the dragon’s mouth.

And it worked.

The bullets damaged something within the dragon, causing the explosive force within its throat to detonate prematurely. It swamped the room in a whirl of fire, singing Eli’s skin even as he ducked for cover.

Despite the fiery explosion, the pained growls from the dragon let Eli know that he had failed to kill it. It was writhing around in pain, wings and tail flailing around the room. It was stumbling over towards his direction, forcing Eli to run away from the door. Narrowly, he missed the spike-lined tail of the dragon as it swung over his head, knocking a hole into the wall. The screeching cyborg dragon was going to regain focus soon, and Eli would have to get out of its enraged gaze soon.

He sprinted to the opposite end of the room, rain getting in his eyes and making the task of finding an exit difficult. The dragon lashed out at him in its injured and aggravated state, forcing Eli to remain cautious about an infuriated dragon that sought nothing more than to turn him into a past tense.

His eyes landed on a door leading deeper into the building. He made a mad dash towards the exit, feeling hope that he’d be able to scurry away back into the depths of the base where the dragon couldn’t reach.

His hopes were dashed when he felt something pull him in the opposite direction. His heart sunk. The dragon managed to get a hold onto him, biting onto his backpack and sinking into the textile with its metal teeth. He kept running, panicking, but it served him no use. With a flick of its head, the dragon lifted Eli off of the ground and threw him across the room and into the opposing wall.

The impact of his body hitting the solid wall, and the fact that he had literally just been thrown like a stuffed sack, knocked the wits out of him. For a moment he swore that he’d black out, yet he remained awake.

His vision was blurry, his body hurt even more, and the rain kept pouring. With every muscle in his body hellbent on keeping him confined to the ground, he struggled to his feet. He could see the piercing red eyes of the dragon searching for him in the rubble – getting nearer. He was crawling on all fours, his world still spinning as he desperately searched for a way out. His eyes landed on a hole in the floor, where it caved in and collapsed onto the floor underneath from the artillery shelling. He could make it, but he needed to keep the dragon off of him.

A roar from the creature made him wise to the fact that he’d already been spotted. He tried to move faster but couldn’t go as fast as he needed to. The impact of his body had either sprained or torn something inside, as his limbs refused to cooperate with him. Knowing there was no other choice if he wanted to live, he again raised his gun.

The dragon was hot onto him. Jagged steel teeth bared, ready to tear him apart. Red eyes staring him down. He aimed for the only weak spot he could think of and pulled the trigger.

His bullets pierced the red left eye, forcing the dragon to halt. It stumbled and fell over itself as its left eye was destroyed. Of course, the dragon still hadn’t died, but the wound forced the beast to a stop, granting Eli enough time to make it to the hole.

He inhaled, gathering all the strength he could, and jumped in.

He had a hard fall. Hardly landing more than he did crashing. Apparently, instead of a graceful tumble onto something pleasant as he sort of hoped for, there was more rubble underneath him. Sharp, jagged, rubble. And his body hit it – hard. Hard enough to deliver him several incredibly painful bruises, as the collapsed building material tore at his skin and punched him in all of his weak and tender parts. He might’ve gotten a concussion too even despite his helmet, had he lacked enough foresight to keep his head held up high. Though, he risked having his skull slam into a hard brick on the ground, a injury that would’ve been devastating had it happened. It was difficult to say if the cheap refuse gear allotted to combat Phantoms would've withstood a nearly two hundred pound human slamming into concrete bricks and metal rubble. Something told Eli it wouldn't.

But despite the fall, Eli was still alive. Greeting him as his eyes opened to assess the situation, the dragon had rushed over to the collapsed part of the floor above, trying to fit itself inside. The jaws of the monster angrily snapped to grab hold of anything on the inside, to get at Eli who had stolen both its fire and its eye. But it failed.

A shiver ran through his spine when he saw the dragon slowly pulling itself away from the hole, peering at him – furious – through the darkness with one piercing red eye left and the other destroyed. It screeched at him through the hole, spread its wings, and took off into the night.

“Yeah, screw you too. Asshole,” He whispered, watching the dragon retreat into the storm.

Eli was on his back, lying against the concrete rubble. He let out a tense breath of air, feeling the rush of fear and combat leave his body. A ghost departing from a now empty shell. He closed his eyes briefly, thinking about how he was this close to dying. His heart slowed down and he felt himself loosen.

He made it to the floors underneath, and so his job of finding Misfit and Sparrow should’ve been made easier. Figuring he couldn’t lie here forever, he got to his feet, body still sore. The memory of the dragon above still haunting him as if he were being stalked by it.

Slowly he pushed his way into the dark depths of the interior, past a few more doors. Still not a single soul in sight. Empty rooms that the rebels had long since retreated from, and yet not one of them had anybody within.

Figuring that the next pair of doors would be the same, he haphazardly placed his hands on their wooden surface. He should’ve figured that something was wrong when the door provided a lot more resistance than normal. It wasn’t locked, per se, but it felt like something was purposely holding it shut from within. He pushed harder, and the door swung open, causing him to almost stumble inside.

He was greeted by a blue pulse of light, magical energy sent him careening backwards until he landed on his back stunned. In just one moment, he had been taken completely by surprise. Another surprise came when he saw an elf charging at him. Only stopping when the two met face to face.

The elf looked unfamiliar. Dark purple skin was covered by white tattoos that looked almost tribal. The elf had a mop of curly silver hair covering his head, illuminated somewhat by the faint light that crawled its way through the darkness. It was a mess of hair growing long over his forehead and round face.

Eli raised his hands in anticipation of an attack, but the Elf’s once harsh gaze softened, and slowly, he backed away. Another glow of light from his hands, and the elf spoke, “Eli?”

Hearing the elf speak his name made him freeze up. A million and a half questions instantly jumped to the front of his mind. But only one made its way through his mouth.

“Temetet?”

The two were locked in a staring competition, or at the very least, it’d seem that way. Neither of the two said anything after they asked each other’s names, but Eli knew that the elf before him – unmasked and seen– a crime so grave that it’d warrant Eli’s death according to Otaes, was none other than Otaes’ little brother.

“I-I-I’m uh, I,” Now it was Eli’s turn to be a stuttering mess before Temetet. It was like he barged into someone’s shower and saw them nude. Though he couldn’t tell if the fear was stemming more from his violation of what was certain to be a strong Warrior Elf cultural taboo – or if it was because Temetet was going to try and kill him. The nervous, overly talkative, naïve, but ultimately harmless elf that he knew to be Otaes’ little brother. Of all people, Temetet, was going to have to be the one to kill him.

Talk about irony.

Temetet took a step closer to him in the dark. The blue glow of his translation spell continued to fill the room, yet he said nothing, “Tem-Temetet. Look, I’m sorry I didn’t, uh, I didn’t mean to-“

Was he afraid of Temetet? The way that the young elf’s face seemed expressionless as he walked closer to Eli filled him with a sense of dread. He knew Temetet and even liked him. Fighting him wasn’t something he wanted to do at all. Unlike the dragon, arguably more menacing in every single respect compared to the rather small elven youth, Temetet was Eli’s friend. And he couldn’t hurt him.

But Temetet stopped, holding out a hand to Eli. He shakily looked over the hand, and then up to Temetet’s face, only to see that he was smiling.

“It’s alright, Eli,” he said in the calmest voice Eli had ever heard him speak in.

The hand was outstretched, ready to be taken so Eli could be helped up. He looked away from Temetet’s face again, unsure if he should keep looking or not. Was Temetet not angry at him? Or at the very least, didn’t he care at all about his own cultural traditions?

He looked from the ground to Temetet’s hand. Shakily he lifted a hand of his own and rested it into Temetet’s palm, who in turn grasped his hand and helped him up onto his feet.

When Eli was standing, there was a moment of awkward silence that fell between the human and the elf. Neither of them looked at each other. Temetet scratched idly at his arm while staring at some point near the back of the room. Eli couldn’t help but stare at the floor.

“Uh, Temetet… isn’t me seeing your face like some kind of –“

“Yeah, yeah it is,” Temetet answered, “But I’m technically not a Kitchi. Yet. I’m just training for it. So uh, don’t worry about it. And even if i was... I don't really care about a dumb rule that much.”

Although the words were supposed to be reassuring, Temetet didn’t seem certain himself. Again, the two made eye contact and then awkwardly peeled away. Why did this feel so horrible?

In any case, Temetet wasn’t going to try and hurt him. A relief. But there was someone else who might, “What about Otaes?”

Temetet was startled by the name at first, but shrugged, “Uhm, she shouldn’t hurt you either. It was my fault anyways; I dropped my mask during the bombing, and it was so dark I couldn’t find it. She’ll understand, I know she will.”

“What if she doesn’t?”

“I think she likes you. Maybe I could talk her out of killing you… just this once.”

“Ah.”

Temetet attempted a smile but it faded away into the darkness of the room, “What about everyone else. You know where my squad is?”

“Everybody is downstairs,” Said Temetet, “The last time I saw them, they were helping move people into the cellar. Where they’d be safer from the bombs.”

“What about Sparrow?”

“He's there too. He sent me up here just before the artillery attack to go looking for you and a few of his other rebels. Sosa and Vega I think. He saw the shells coming in... But, truthfully I'm just looking for Otaes. ”

So, that means Otaes was gone too. He’d have to find both of them. But then Eli realized...

"Wait a minute, Sparrow sent you up here? Right into the killzone?

Temetet shrugged, "He said that I'd be more useful fighting than trying to heal people. "

Eli swallowed hard. Was that true? Or was Sparrow trying to get rid of Temetet? Either way, Eli was going to have to tear Sparrow a new one. Provided Otaes didn't murder him first. It seemed that Temetet was unaware of just how bad the implication was. He could've been killed up here. The amount of fury boiling in Eli was unspeakable... but first, he needed to reunite with Misfit, “I’m gonna go find Misfit. The entire top floor is abandoned, dragons are tearing the hell out of it. I doubt Otaes is up there.”

“Then I’ll follow you,” Temetet noticed Eli checking his gun for ammo – or rather, the lack thereof – “But before anything else, we need to find the armory.”

“Armory?” Eli asked.

“I’ve seen it when me and Otaes first got here. They’ve got a room where they keep a lot of their guns and supplies. It’s on this floor. There’re three routes to get there. We get you some more bullets, and see if we can’t do anything about the dragon problem.”

Eli was about to agree to the plan, when they heard something.

Rumbling. Not lightning, but instead, marching.

“Sentries,” Temetet whispered.

The marching was close enough that it shook the building’s foundation, almost as if they were on the wall. It was possible that the sentries had already closed the distance and had begun scaling the wall, searching for hostiles to shoot through the windows. And if the dragon Eli tangoed was a sign of anything, then the army may have already begun their assault.

“Do they have any weakness other than the rockets?”

“I think so, but I dunno what they are,” Temetet racked his mind, “I’ve heard stories of Kitchi warriors and rebels using big nets to tie their legs up and bring them down. But they’re just stories, and even if they were true, we don’t have a comedically large net lying around.”

“Great,” He said. Only five rockets left, and who knew how many sentries? Unless there was some other way to kill them, they’d be completely outgunned and outnumbered. And what of the people?

His eyes once more drifted to his monitor, the screen was just the same as it was when he checked it ten minutes ago. Why was he expecting it to be anything different? He knew that the signal jam was still active. Maybe there was some hope in him that a message from Overwatch would’ve gotten through and somehow manifest itself onto the monitor. But of course, it had not.

“We need to get to the armory,” Eli repeated.

The marching sound of the sentry grew larger. They were definitely here. In fact, if Eli listened close enough, he could hear their engines humming just above them. He could hear other noises too…

Just outside of the window.

Both Eli and Temetet froze as their gazes went to the window. Through the stormy night they could see little. But they knew the window was a danger. The sound of the Sentry was right above them now. They could hear its legs pummel the ceiling. When it found nothing, it unleashed a robotic roar, a sound so monstrous it was like listening to a living foghorn.

Eli tapped Temetet on the shoulder, raising a finger to his lips and gesturing for them to hide. Slowly the two moved, careful not to make any sound that would tip off the sentry. Eli knew that the sentries could hear them just as well as it could see, and if Misfit’s earlier scuffle with one was anything to go by, their hearing was their main strength.

There was an overturned table near the rear of the room that provided immediate cover from view of the window. Leaving the room would’ve taken too long, and even if they made it in time, there was no guarantee they’d be safe. It was already too late to run. Now they had to hide.

Eli crawled into cover. He tried to find Temetet, but he was nowhere to be seen in the darkness, even the blue glow of the translation spell was gone. There was an urge to call out to Temetet, but he knew better than that.

And right on cue, the red glow of robotic eyes erased the darkness. The near pitch black room was suddenly bathed in red light. The engine of the machine like a growl just behind him. Eli swore he could feel the eyes on his back, seeing his cowering body straight through the table. In the red glow, dark shadows were cast in the room. The window frame, the table, the furniture inside, all cast with a red halo and a black silhouette on the wall in front of him. Eli’s figure was nowhere to be seen, yet he still tucked his limbs in for fear of them hanging loose. He inhaled, and closed his eyes.

Fighting sentries was not something possible, for there was no fighting them. The only times when Eli even stood a chance was when he was surrounded by an entire team of allies who had access to the rockets. But it was just him and Temetet now, they wouldn’t stand a chance.

He eyeballed the door off to their side. Running was an option, but he was still recovering from fighting the dragon. His injuries just as painful as they were then. Did he really have it in him to start sprinting for his life?

The more thought he gave the idea, the more his wounds cried out in searing pain. If he decided to run, when? How soon was too soon? How slow was too slow?

There was another noise from the ceiling. Boots. He heard gargled conversation, just like between the soldiers he fought in Raritan. His mind flashed to the Shock Troopers and the Avonian Squad Leaders, somewhat robotic, somewhat elven. They were disembarking some kind of aerial vehicle and storming the building from the top down! If Eli had spent too long up on the ceiling, he would have been annihilated! But down here, he was trapped with Temetet once more. What could he do? When was his chance? It was agonizing!

Right then, the feet of the Sentry began to move once more. It crawled, a massive spider who’s every step sent Shockwave coursing through the structure. The red eyes looked away, and Eli’s chance came.

He rose to his feet, ignoring the pleading calls from his body to slow down and rest. He peered through the darkness of the room to look for Temetet and he found him, tucked in a corner of the room hidden behind a cabinet. Eli reached out his hand.

“Come on! We have to go!” He said in a hushed shout.

Temetet said something else, but in his native language. Eli couldn’t understand him, but it sounded like he was confused.

“Temetet, they’re going to box us in! Come on!” He said, but he dropped the hushed whisper. Now he was almost shouting. Desperately pleading for Temetet to get on his feet and start running. But whether he was frozen in fear, or genuinely thought hiding was the better option, he wouldn’t budge.

It wasn’t until there was a roar from the sentry outside, probably provoked by hearing Eli on the brink of shouting, that Temetet got up. Eli took his hand, pulling the young elf to his feet, and not a second later the two were sprinting.

The door was closed, but Eli didn’t even have time to fiddle with the knob to open it. Instead, he gathered his speed and weight, and crashed into it, making the door burst open. When the two left the room, Eli could see the distinct red glow of the sentry’s lights fill the room once again. There was a roar as the sentry watched them flee. The sentry's main cannon charged…

And it opened fire.

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