“The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain and appreciate.” The words echoed in Wanderer’s mind as he surveyed the scene before him. The troops gathered around a small fire, their faces illuminated by the flickering flames, sharing a rare meal of jerky.
while other enjoy their time on the gooning tent. spending their time on the flashy entertainment
As the days passed, the operation at the newly named facility, Sentinel, became increasingly intense. Oil trucks came and went, but the reports from the drivers grew more concerning. They spoke of relentless attacks from mutants along the way, with the danger escalating each day. The their parked trucks filled by hole from bullets and arrows sticking out,
Wanderer stood at the forefront of the facility, his expression serious. “We must do a counterattack to hunt their war camp nearby,”
The need for action was clear, and a small group of trained mercenaries was quickly assembled for the mission, with Wanderer taking the lead, operating without the SWAT commander’s orders.
Among the group was Oboro, a stoic figure whose eyes burned with determination. He was eager to prove his worth and capabilities in this mission, and Wanderer could sense the resolve radiating from him. As the small group led by Furqan moved out from the facility, they traversed a desert, sandstorms visible on the horizon.
Wanderer watched from the high ground, observing their movements through binoculars, As the group climbed a plateau, they spotted a small mutant base in the distance,filled by tent and cars, its about one kilometer away. However, between them and the base, a mutant patrolled among the boulders and bushes. The small group quickly ducked behind some rocks, trying to stay hidden while they assessed the situation.
“Enemy found,” Furqan reported back to Wanderer, his voice tense. “But our weapons are out of range, especially with this strong wind. We will need to get closer.”
Oboro, however, had a different plan. “I can take out all of them,” he said,
Wanderer turned to him, a mixture of surprise and skepticism crossing his face. He knew the long rifle was powerful, but hitting multiple targets from over a kilometer away in the desert? It was a bold claim. “Can you?” he asked, his tone skeptical. “You’re confident you can take them all out from this distance, in these wind conditions?”
Oboro smiled slightly beneath his desert pattern mask, nodding confidently. “I can. I’ve done it before. I know where to aim to account for the wind and distance. I’ll take them all down before they even realize what’s happening.”
Wanderer studied him for a moment, With a low sigh, he nodded, deciding to trust his judgment. “Alright. Take the shot. If you can take them out, it’ll make our job a lot easier.”
Oboro settled into a prone position, taking aim with his long rifle. The other fighters watched with a mix of admiration and wariness, wondering if he could really pull this off. He took a deep breath, steadied the rifle against his shoulder, and squinted through the scope, adjusting for the wind and distance.
Seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity as Oboro kept the gun steady, his focus unwavering. Suddenly, he fired, the shot ringing out in the desert air. like a thunder
For a moment, there was silence, and then... a distant explosion. the others watched in awe as the base in the distance erupted into flames.
Wanderer jaw drop, then focusing on his binocular. Oboro was hit the ammo box, then he continue shooting.
The mutants guarding the perimeter dropped dead one by one, each hit by Oboro’s precise shots.
The small group exchanged astonished glances, clearly impressed by Oboro’s shooting skills.. Oboro calmly lowered his rifle, a satisfied smirk on his face. mission is mission accomplished, by one man.
Later, as they returned to the Sentinel facility, Wanderer waited at the gate, arms crossed, a look of contemplation on his face. When Oboro approached, “So... what are you?”
“what i am?”
Wanderer leaned against the rough wall of the facility, his eyes narrowing as he studied Oboro. “You know what I mean. You must be some kind of spec ops... or an artifact wielder.”
Oboro nodded slowly, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips. “Ah, you’re perceptive,” he replied. “I’m a special ops agent, that’s true. But not just any kind. You might say I have... a unique set of abilities.”
Wanderer raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “I see. Can we check that... abilities?”
Oboro quirked an eyebrow at the question, clearly not expecting to be put on the spot. A small smirk played on his lips. “Sure, why not? I suppose I could show off a bit. What did you have in mind?”
Wanderer leaned in slightly, curiosity piqued. “So... what is special? Your eyes? Or just simply your rifle?”
Oboro let out a scoff, amusement dancing in his eyes. “My eyes, huh? What, I have superhuman vision?” he chuckled. “My rifle is powerful, yes, but it’s not the only thing that sets me apart.” He paused, gauging Wanderer’s interest before continuing. “I have a unique ability to perceive and analyze things in ways that others can’t. I can see patterns where others don’t. It helps me react faster and anticipate moves.”
“Mhmh... so in short, you’re smarter than the average human,” Wanderer summarized,
Oboro snorted slightly, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Something like that,” he replied, a small smirk forming. “But it’s not just intellect. There’s a certain sixth sense I have. Call it intuition or instinct, but it allows me to see opportunities and dangers that others might miss.”
Stolen story; please report.
Wanderer’s expression shifted, curiosity morphing into skepticism. “... Do you even human?”
Oboro was caught off guard by the question, but he maintained his composure. “What do you mean? Of course I’m human,” he said calmly. “Just not your average one.”
“Half mutant?” Wanderer ventured, a teasing tone in his voice.
Oboro laughed, shaking his head. “No, not half mutant. I was born human, just like you,” he clarified. “I’ll admit, my skills might seem superhuman, but they’re the result of extensive training and a unique way of processing information. I’m not a mutant. Just... different.”
Wanderer nodded, reflecting on the nature of soldiers he had encountered in the past. “I see... those special soldiers do their job in the battlefield. I’ve met many of them, as friends or foes, but they cheat... they use genetic mutation or just simply put some steel on their bodies.”
Oboro leaned casually on his rifle, his gaze distant as he recalled past encounters. “I hear ya. I’ve met my share of ‘enhancing soldiers’ too. Some use genetics, others rely on cybernetics. It’s all part of the arms race, each side striving for an advantage. But I don’t roll that way. I’m natural, buddy. I don’t need to cheat or rely on artificial enhancements. I trust my own abilities and intelligence to get the job done.”
Wanderer looked at the other faces around them before meeting Oboro’s gaze again. “Do you think we believe that?”
Oboro narrowed his eyes slightly, a playful challenge in his expression. “Now why wouldn’t you believe me?” he replied, his voice laced with mock innocence. “I’ve done my part, haven’t I? Took out those mutants like it was nothing. No genetic mutations, no cybernetic implants. Just me, my rifle, and my wits.”
“Alright... Oboro,” Wanderer said. “had a good cold drink inside. We might use your... so-called normal ability again next time.”
Oboro let out a small laugh, appreciating Wanderer’s dry sense of humor. He gave a lazy salute and nodded. “You got it, boss. I’ll be around if you need me. And I’ll be happy to ‘use my normal ability’ again if it helps the team.” With that, he turned and headed inside the facility, his rifle slung over his shoulder,
Later, as most of the fighters returned to their quarters, a desert storm approached once again, the second one that day. Before they were forced to retreat inside, Wanderer caught Shizuka’s gaze. “Do you think he might be half mutant like you?”
Shizuka stood beside Wanderer, looking out into the windy sandstorm. She considered his question thoughtfully. “Hard to say. Oboro has a certain air about him, a sort of confidence and precision that’s unusual, even among highly trained operatives. He might have something going on under the surface.”
Wanderer chuckled, teasingly. “Heh, so you can’t... like feel your own species, huh?”
Shizuka quirked a small smile, appreciating Wanderer’s teasing. “It’s not like I have a mutant-radar in my head, you know,” she replied dryly. “I can sense when someone’s genetic makeup is off, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re half-mutant. Maybe Oboro’s just really good at what he does.”
“Let’s just believe that for a moment,” Wanderer said, rubbing the back of his neck. “And I need another massage.”
Shizuka rolled her eyes but chuckled nonetheless. “What, am I your personal masseuse now?” she teased, a hint of amusement in her voice. “It seems like you’re always asking for massages these days.”
Wanderer pouted, and Shizuka let out a small laugh at his childishness. “Come on, don’t give me that face,” she chided, smirking. “I’ll give you a massage, but you gotta stop acting like a big baby.”
“Good. But I’m indeed a big baby,” Wanderer replied,
Shizuka shook her head, a mixture of fondness and disbelief on her features. “That you are,” she said with a small smile. “But it’s part of your charm, I suppose. Now, come on. Let’s find a quiet spot for your massage before the storm gets worse.”
The SWAT barracks were a cacophony of competing entertainment systems. Some soldiers were engrossed in VR simulations advertised, others were gambling on virtual anime girl fight streamed by and still others were watching personalized entertainment feeds curated by Sin vision, with mindless entertainment—games and explicit content flickering on screens. As they passed the med bay, they witnessed soldiers receiving their daily doses of drugs, a sight that had become all too normal for them.
The duo continued until they reached the merc quarters, which were quieter than the rest of the facility. The faint sounds of music and the strumming of guitars floated through the air. Eventually, they arrived at Shizuka's room. Without hesitation, Wanderer jumped onto the bed, removing his worn out cloak with a flourish. "Quickly. Mhm, nom," he exclaimed, settling in.
Shizuka laughed softly, watching him with amusement. "Impatient as always, aren't you?" she teased, a smile lighting up her face. She moved to sit on the edge of the bed beside him, her hands instinctively reaching out to knead his tense muscles.
"Aghhh! So good... I need that," Wanderer sighed, leaning into her touch.
Shizuka continued her work, her hands firm yet gentle as they worked out the knots in his back and shoulders. She smirked, enjoying the sounds of contentment that escaped him. "Yeah, I know you do. You're like a walking muscle knot most of the time."
"Yes, thanks to my so normal job," he replied with a chuckle.
Shizuka laughed again, shaking her head. "Yeah, your totally not stressful at all job," she said sarcastically. "No wonder you're in such a state. I swear, sometimes I wonder how you'd function without me."
"Mmhh... stop being cocky like that. It was my second nature, even before we met. But I should admit, my life is indeed better after we met," Wanderer confessed, his eyes closing as he enjoyed the massage.
Shizuka paused, a small smile playing on her lips as she looked at him. Genuine affection shone in her gaze. "Hmm, I'll stop being cocky when you stop being a walking ball of tension," she said lightly. "And yeah, maybe your life is better since I came along, but only because you'd be a mess otherwise."
As Wanderer began to drift off, his comm device suddenly came to life, startling him. He accepted the call, and the gruff voice of the old commander filled the room. "Remember the scout? He’s stranded in enemy territory. Find him and bring him back."
Wanderer furrowed his brow. "Ah, that guy... Do you think I will risk my men only for one guy?"
The old commander’s voice grew stern. "We can't leave anyone behind! Do you hear me?"
Wanderer sighed, feeling the weight of the command. "Alright... show me the last location. And don’t blame me if this facility weakens after my departure."
"Don't tell me something obvious. Just bring me the scout, dead or alive. Do you understand?" the commander barked.
Wanderer sighed again before responding, "Damn right... just put extra on my payment. Out."
Shizuka watched as Wanderer’s comm went silent, sensing his frustration. She raised an eyebrow at him. "Let me guess... the old commander wants you to risk your neck for some scout that's stranded in enemy territory?"
Wanderer narrowed his eyes. "They send us on too many silly missions, but this is the most outrageous."
Shizuka rolled her eyes, stopping her massage and crossing her arms. "Risking your men's lives just to retrieve some stupid scout? Yeah, that does sound outrageous," she said, frustration clear in her voice. "Sometimes I wonder why you even put up with the old commander's orders, Wanderer."
Wanderer sighed deeply. "It's... more like an old promise. I actually start to question my own sanity. It all started after the Great War. I helped establish a military order to keep law in the wasteland, but as time went by, people came and went, and this order became a literal joke."
Shizuka listened intently, her expression softening. "That... actually makes a lot of sense," she said quietly. "You wanted to help rebuild the wasteland after the war, but the world had other plans. I can see why you'd question your own sanity dealing with all this stupidity."
Wanderer chuckled lightly. "Hehe... stop seeing me like a victim! I'm the Great Wanderer!"
Shizuka smirked at his playful protest, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Great Wanderer. I forgot that you're the toughest, most stoic mercenary in the wasteland. No need to be a victim when you're the big, bad Wanderer, right?"
"Good... order the men. We will be rolling," he said,
Shizuka nodded, standing up from the bed. "Alright, I'll gather the men and prepare for the mission. You just make sure you're ready for some action, Wanderer."
With that, she left the room, leaving Wanderer to gather his thoughts, the weight of the mission ahead pressing down on him.