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You Can't See The Sky
Chapter 82 — Snowfall…

Chapter 82 — Snowfall…

Snowfall…

Swwlip~. Phesx Caolia ruthlessly plunged the umpteenth comet into an Artista's neck, right after penetrating an Instructor's sternum. Phesx's rough frown strengthened when pulling the blade out, cutting the throat of an Artista rushing towards his back with a blade and thick gauntlet in each hand. Only to end up with half his neck cut off and throwing his head backwards. It happened so fast that blood streaked into the air from 2 different sides with Phesx in the middle.

All of this could have been felt by each of those 4 in the scene, where only Phesx survived, in slow motion. But such an outcome became not only the only result, but also the norm. He was still surrounded from every side. As soon as Phesx killed the 3rd person, a hurl of Artistas led by an Instructor rushed at him with their backs low and wielding one blade each at least.

Phesx stepped towards them at his own pace, while they ran to him with the intention to surround him while cutting his body off. It wasn’t the first time that happened. As Phesx was pushed to the sides back and forth, with his skin or armor slashed on and threatened by numerous strikes towards his vital points. He faced the front with his right shoulder and his left foot behind.

Clank, clink- fswiiip, slash slash! Whoosh, swish…! Phesx met the numerous blades while sidestepping to the left or right, never retreating or advancing even when someone shot him. Phesx even used his nails and found them to only crack when hit directly from their flatness by a bion blade.

Even then, many, oh but so many blades hit his body. All Phesx could focus on was his neck and heart so they wouldn’t make their way towards his organs or killing him directly. However, while they attacked his body from every direction, although they failed to move him how they wanted, they concentrated their attacks on his left arm.

Whoop, whooooop, whoop, whooooop. Meanwhile, sirens sounded from far, far away. Phesx Caolia noticed them nearly after the fight commenced, putting tension in his being and urgency in ‘them’.

‘Umf…’ For the umpteenth time, Phesx was struck above his armpit, below, from behind, and to the front a few times each before he killed everyone again. His face had a few cuts, but they were already dried and healing under the crust. As Phesx freed himself from yet another group, the swarm of Artistas and few Instructors moved to get hm yet again.

“Hmf, hmf, hmf, hmf…” Phesx breathed roughly as he heard and felt everyone rushing towards him. As always he issued not a sound, not even an accidental, muffled blow from his nostrils, or a guttural grunt in his throat.

‘I… it doesn’t matter… die before me!’ Phesx’s head trembled, which he didn’t notice. His eyes shook so bizarrely strongly, but he also didn’t notice. Phesx suddenly felt freed, free from the bottom of his heart. His chest inflated, and the hair on each bit of his skin stood on their end, hard even below the heavy rain washing the tides of blood and flesh and organs in the open area.

Still without making a sound, Phesx stepped forth. Every Artista before him hurried to stop, including the Instructors. Those behind him slowed down, wanting to see, when Phesx jumped into the air, forwards. His body lunged onwards, not caring about the many blades pointing at him, whose widened eyes behind their raised handles hoped he’d just charge into their tips.

Phesx articulated his comets to hid before using his hands to grab a few blades. Then, with brutal force, he unnaturally folded his legs and stomped his soles on the tips of some blades to stop his jump. His movement halted at once, with many Artistas grunting, tying to aim with their pistols. Phesx grabbed as many blades as he could and pulled, but it wasn’t easy.

When Phesx managed to pull the few blades he could, bringing their owners up into the sky as his left arm, empowered by his bion exoskeletal arm, which didn’t increase strength, his veins bulged and his wrist furiously trembled.

Phesx threw the blades into the air, besides his head, and grabbed the few Artistas he brought into the air. His arms hugged them to his chest before pushing the blades’ tips below his soles to jump into the air again. His feet were already poked by some, but with this, they were penetrated, yet his breath stopped them from further sliding in. Numerous gunshots killed those Artistas as the blades all fell to the ground, with some Artistas trying to grab them.

Phesx’s body rapidly began falling. He continued hugging their corpses for shields as he dived, articulating his comets out of his forearms, nearly fully exposed and out of armor after so many slashes. Then, with more gunshots, and some landing on his armored back, Phesx neared the ground. He was blocked in the air by the Artistas who looked up, crouching to get the blades.

But Phesx wasn’t just trying to keep them away, nor was he defending himself so promptly anymore. He aimed at their necks regardless of their blades’ tips aim. As such, several necks were penetrated during his fall. In exchange, Phesx Caolia was stabbed by multiple blades through the open gaps, already bleeding profusely before being stabbed. They remained on his back after he turned and sat on his bum before crouching.

Yet, as Phesx crouched, he spun and moved his arms to cut behind knees, elbows, and heels. Dashing into the crowd, he repeated his actions, ignoring the kicks and stabs from other bion blades. Once those he struck were down, their heads or necks were cut, stabbed, or halved.

Not sparing a tiny bit of effort, Phesx simply killed and killed, so efficiently to the point that, wherever he went, an ‘invisible twirl’ would appear in a spot of heads before they fell, never to stand up again.

Therefore, Phesx fought everywhere, as much as he could, with blood drawn everywhere. His figure simply wouldn’t stop moving, and when he first spotted a fleeing Artista once many died and they started losing their belief in Riverlye, he took his medium pistol out.

Phesx had just barged into another Artista’s chest, when he noticed a man fleeing with his body bent forth. His left hand flashed and aimed forth, evading a bullet that scrapped just behind his nape. Everyone parted from Phesx’s left like a sea cutting itself into two after seeing his medium pistol out at last. And then, he fired. Bang!

From then on, Phesx checked whoever fled, whenever he could, and killed them.

Phesx’s armor was slowly taken away by the many slashes, the many bullets, and bions.

… When only slightly above a dozen Artistas and an Instructor remained, only his abdomen from the front and his left upper thigh had armor left on them.

Phesx faced the many Artistas moving around him as he engaged the Instructor with his comets while he focused on dodging bullets, blocking the rest with the Instructor’s body. His left arm helped him block so many bullets still.

However, the bio exoskeletal arm was severely damaged as well. Furthermore, with the constant targeting to his left arm, it became clear they knew they couldn’t destroy the bion, so they wanted to cut his arm off instead.

Now, Phesx’s left arm had a circular wound from atop his shoulder to his armpit, with multiple cuts around that failed to uniformly hit that once spot.

“Aggh!” At this point, Phesx’s right comet, the last of that side, was broken by a quick-shot from the Instructor’s right-handed small pistol, aiming it to the left just as Phesx swept his comet to the left. Phesx’s trembling pupils and irises fiercely shrunk at the moment he was waiting for!

The instructor only felt his neck bitten on the right, while his left upper ribs were stabbed by 5 unstoppable tiny blades. When he tried to look to his left, Phesx pulled his head away from looking with his teeth biting harder, flooding his mouth with blood and vibrations from the Instructor’s screams.

Like before, the Artistas slashed Phesx’s sides and back whenever he closely engaged the Instructor. This time, however, they were startled but still went forth and slashed his body. Nobody dared to stay near, as he had done similar things before and rapidly killed whichever Artista thought they were the ones to land the killing blow.

However, they did try to attack his head and neck from any angle, but Phesx lowered his stance and used the Instructor’s face to protect himself. Phesx didn’t even leave them opportunities to kill him more easily, but blood still streamed down his body. His skin wasn’t easily recognizable, with his sides showing bones, and his back pried open with so much blood drying but still flowing out. It didn’t help that they kept slashing the most vulnerable spots again and again.

As soon as the Instructor died, with Phesx’s right hand crushing the heart after playing it flurry slashes from his nails, Phesx threw the lifeless body to an Artista who was about to take his turn slashing his body.

Phesx crouched and grabbed the broken comet as the Artista stumbled down, failing to avoid the flying corpse. Phesx threw the comet in the Artista’s direction, maneuvered to his head. An Artista rushed to his back, yelling to stop him, but naturally failed. “Hey!”

Phesx turned round and faced that Artista as the other became a corpse after a few twitches with the Instructor on the ground. The Artista stopped, but he knew it was useless to escape. He took his pistol out and aimed, but before he could pull the trigger, Phesx sidestepped twice, making the Artista miss his shot with the second time, narrowly.

The next moment, Phesx projected his left comet forth, stabbing the Artista’s glabella from below to up, cutting ⅓ of his head. Just then, the other Artistas moved towards him, enraged, and as the police sirens sounded, with their yellow lights glowing in flickers between the buildings from afar.

Phesx dispatched them off quickly. He was weakened, not just because of fighting so much, so many, and for this long. His blood and pain have driven him to a slight tiredness, more than affecting his physical body.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

When he was cutting the neck off and palming the chest of another Artista, the last remaining Artista, whose right arm was cut off by Phesx’s last left comet, ran to him from his left. Phesx aimed his medium pistol to the Artista, but this one jumped as soon as he thought, even if he got it wrong, that Phesx moved his free right hand a little.

Bang! It ended up working, as the Artista jumped into the air and sacrificed his right leg and groins. With a bawling expression and saddened eyes, he struck from above on Phesx’s bion exoskeletal arm. It was all far too quick, and though Phesx could’ve moved with his full-on speed, he has to keep his strength for escaping soon.

Clank! The exoskeletal was barely harmed, as expected. Just as Phesx aimed at the Artista’s chest again, this time to definitely kill the truly 1-legged Artista, the latter’s cleaving attack moved slightly to the left, leaning his blade. The exoskeletal arm moved a little, just enough…

“!”

Slash- swish! Bang! Phesx’s eyes had just widened, when the Artista let go of his bion blade and grabbed a small pistol with his left and a bion dagger with his right. He fired twice at Phesx’s armpit before slashing upwards. The gunshots semi-paralyzed Phesx’s left arm, which he commanded to move but wouldn’t budge.

Thus, Phesx’s left arm fell off as his blood spurted up into the sky and his arm crashed on the ground. Meanwhile, Phesx’s right hand pulled the trigger, at last. The Artista’s head and neck became nonexistent, with its torso falling backwards flat on the ground.

Phesx knelt. The sirens sounded closer and closer, with a few police cars already visible, and some national guard vans following even farther behind. Phesx’s torso began shaking from within before he started coughing, twisting his shoulder, ribs, neck, and abdomen.

“Cough— cough- COUGH, COUGH, COUGH, COUGH!!” Phesx shut his eyes tight, continuing coughing as he felt his right hand on the ground, supporting him, getting wet and a little warm before returning to the cold of the heavy rain drowning on his shoulders.

“…” Phesx stood up, using his left leg to get up and the right leg to impulse his body towards his left arm. He grabbed it with his right hand, simply dropping his medium pistol on the ground before crazily pushing it back into his shoulder. But that just wasn’t working, Phesx’s ‘healing’ was to a minimum, and this meant nothing.

Phesx stopped trying. He walked to his submachine gun, not far from where he knelt, and took its strap off, leaving the gun on the ground. He used it to tie his left arm back to his shoulder. Even if he didn’t have unknown healing capabilities, he would still try it. He couldn’t lose an arm! Even less now!

Phesx hung his head backwards, resting on his neck. He closed his eyes, still feeling the coughing fit from before but restrained it. He could feel the slightly denser liquid, his blood, wash away from his face, particularly around his mouth and nose.

“Agh…” Phesx stood up and walked away, rushing to his maximum speed after walking off the street. He disappeared between buildings, with none the wiser.

… Phesx ran, ran, hid, jumped through roofs, slid down buildings to hide, ran, and ran.

His heart pounded as he didn’t even bother checking his Myertha, probably caught under that so-called hoog secret organization’s special agent. A few minutes later, being not too far from the headquarters, with his speed and knowledge of the city, Phesx arrived before the building with a descending staircase leading to the entrance.

His bloody body stopped for a moment, with his rifle bloodied on his back by his wounds, before walking inside. Phesx felt the change from cold and wet to warm and fresh. He was mostly bare, with his torso nearly exposed to a fault, and his legs only had clothing around his knees, thighs, and groins.

Going down the elevator, Phesx wondered why nobody stopped him, and those guards who used to be there were now gone. But when the doors opened at the HQ, he realized.

“Ah?! What th- Fox?!” A female Artista was just walking around the corner in front of these elevators, when she stopped, smelling the scent of blood and weapons out. When she recognized Phesx, he had already aimed his rifle down at her collarbone. Bang.

The hunt continued…

Phesx rushed forwards. His weakness, fatigue, pain, and sadness for his left arm, which he was more than capable of reason to know it was impossible to reattach, were left behind in the streets.

His right arm held the rifle as he ran, blurring through the hallways and killing anyone who appeared before him while on the run. Those who peeked out after he ran past rooms and study rooms were ignored. He couldn’t get distracted anymore, things had to change, and he had to hurry.

‘Pheli!’ Phesx’s eyes distorted into a lunatic gleam as he hurried, feeling so short on time that he wanted to pull the skin off his body. But he couldn’t, though he could afterwards, if she wasn’t there anymore. Would she wait for him? For this long?

He didn’t even think of masking his steps or trails and just rushed forth. When he neared the main workshop, Phesx killed another 3 Artistas who were prepared, but were just Artistas.

But then, he stopped. His head twitched. Phesx turned it to the left, where Emer lied on his study room with a dimmed light. He walked to Emer, more than easily finding him to be… lifeless.

Phesx’s eyes darted as quickly as his mind moved. He saw a note on the small, tall stand. He grabbed and read it, and to his half surprise and half expectant self, it was directed at him.

—We move our bodies, and our blood flows like the others, but we have the ways that few can learn, and through time, master. Our bodies are so different, but we are one race. Our reach is vast, but if we don’t have a purpose, it is feeble and short-lasting.

We pass our entire lifetimes running after death. Some force death to embrace them, or think about it. But these are all nothing, even if on full completion, when compared to love. When have we not changed everything because of love? A distressed loved one, an endangered loved one, a need for love, and the love shared towards the world. If the hearts of a few didn’t move the lands and seas of a heartbeatless world, would we still be humans?

Love begets love, no matter how sickly or indignantly precious. You, who harbors no heart nor mind for even the weakest of emotions and thoughts… not to speak of love… I wonder how powerful you would be if you could?

I wanted to train you and use your future self so you could destroy this organization and its patrons in that incoming future. I have used you. But, kid, you’ve used me too. It is easy to destroy even the strongest bonds, but how hard are such opportunities for even the weakest to come by? Not to mention forming them. In this, you give and take. In this, I gave and took as well. I would hope you will know how to choose your end, as I choose mine.

Emer Metelti, delightfully known as old fart.—

“…” Phesx said nothing. He stood with the letter in both his hands’ fingertips before dropping a tear from his left lacrimal, swinging his head to arch it towards the old fart. Phesx nudged his head in the air towards Emer, as a gesture, before turning around, remaining silent. But he still had a thought, and maybe for the last time. ‘Damn you… grandpa.’

Phesx couldn’t contain himself any longer. He didn’t know how it happened, to what extent, and how much it’ll help, but Emer’s involvement in his return here to ‘sneak’ went far too smoothly. He couldn’t waste it anyhow.

Hurrying to the main workshop, Phesx opened the door almost immediately. There, he saw Pheli rapidly grabbing bion components behind her counter, with Waleks’s and his empty. She moved her eyes upturned and looked at him in alarm but indifferently.

“Phesx…” Her eyes widened and relaxed, but the sight of his body shocked her. Meanwhile, Phesx… felt so contented… so relieved… so loved?

He stepped into the workshop but stopped as the entrance closed on its own. Pheli slightly parted her lips, feeling something in her throat as she could just feel the heartbreak deep within his chest. Then, Phesx asked her, time and again…

“The luggage at the building, Pheli. Most went missing. Why did they have bions that countered my inventions? And how did they come to know how to actively counter them, Pheli? Every single one of them, of those hundreds! They knew everything and had everything in their disposal to destroy me!!”

“Phesx,” Pheli dropped the case she was putting everything in, walked through prepared suitcases on the floor with weapons, bions, medicine, and explosives separately, and arrived before him. Phesx also walked forward, with his shoulders moving back and forth, and slightly up and down.

She cupped his face, not afraid for even an instantaneous trice. Her celeste eyes were accompanied by her orange, delicately, hurt, furrowed eyebrows. Her voice became sweet and pained, “I had no choice. They knew. The moment they left, they came here and asked. I told them about the suitcases with more supplies so they would take them. They also made me create contraptions against your voids, especially comets.”

“But those extra suitcases were full of defective bions, they wouldn’t work when used and might just crumble. The contraptions didn’t work completely, did they? I had no choice with the pivots’ neutralizer, it wasn’t improved enough, Phexie.”

“I knew it would be for something like this, but I just… I had no other way,” Pheli exclaimed with her voice becoming more high-pitched and less solid. Phesx’s impenetrable black eyes, which seemed to tremble even as he was serene, softened.

“!!!” But his eyebrows instinctively raised when he heard murmurs of ‘do you think he’s there?’, ‘isn’t the weapons master there, too?’, and ‘doesn’t matter, fire!’ from the other side of the hallway. Furthermore, their arms lifted what sounded like better weapons than most Artistas, even Instructors, can get.

“!…” Phesx wanted to pull Pheli towards him and use his back to protect her. He didn’t know what kind of weapons they had, but being so far away on the other end of the hallway, they had to barrage the entire workshop in one go, they would.

However, Phesx used his left hand, which was useless.

His body leaned to the right by inertia. His impenetrable black eyes shrunk as he used the stance he was inadvertently left in to push her with his right hand flashing towards her. Pheli’s eyes also widened, but she was slower than him even now and could only let him act alone.

Trrr rrrrrrr rrrrr rrrrrrrrr rrrrrrrr rrrrrr rrrrrrrr rrrrrr rrrrrrrr rrrrrrr rrrrrrr rrrrr rrrr rrrrrr rrrrrrr rrrrrrrr rrrrrrrrr rrrrrr rrrrrrrr rrrrrr rrrrrrrrrr rrrrrrrrr rrrrrrr rrrrrrrr rrrrrrrrr rrrrrr rrrr…!

The supercontinental model weapons fired before he could react. His right arm was even shot by the piercing bullets through the thick, armored walls. Pheli’s left side received a column of bullets from her hip to her head, opening small red holes in her body, whereas one grazed the back of her head’s upper section. Her breath stopped them from penetrating more, and the walls cushioned the bullets’ force as they were the first to penetrate.

But Phesx could hear the havoc inside her body as he pushed her and impulsed his body forward, hugging her waist and being shot several times on his back as they fell on her back.

The firepower didn’t stop when they fell, continuing for several seconds more before they ran out of bullets.

Phesx looked down at Pheli’s rapidly paling body. Her heart… he couldn’t hear hers beating. As the fire ceased, He held below her head with his only usable hand, lowering his forehead unto hers. Pheli opened her paler, orange lips and shakily twitched them to whisper under her breath.

“My lye…”

Phesx’s eyes unnaturally quaked their contents, so madly. His dry, similarly pale lips twitched, too. “…Our blood…”

Pheli narrowed her eyes. Phesx ever so gently pressed his forehead to hers. A terrible feeling of her leaving him without any sensation slightly woke him up. It was dreadful, nothing more.

It wasn’t just them in the dark anymore, with no noise and no world around them, only clear emptiness. The world, its colors, noise, and death returned to his senses, or him to them.

Then, his irises and pupils… shook one last time before separating… and fell.