I own nothing.
Survivor
Evan opened his eyes. The train would stop here soon, and It wouldn't do to be caught dozing during his watch. Standing to attention, in case there was a welcoming committee from the reactor, he attempted to look alert. This was drudge duty, standing in a station for three hours helping to unload cargo. The train skidded to a stop...
He blinked. The bitch had kicked him in the spine, and he'd almost cracked his skull off the train. Ignoring the spasms of agony the movement gave him, he turned his head slightly just as a big guy with a gun melded into his arm ran past. Then a smaller, tough looking guy with spiked blond hair did an elaborate and unnecessary half somersault off the top of the train. The big guy said something to Spikehead
how much hair gel does he use
and ran out of the station. Spikehead headed towards Evan, who felt a hand in his breast pocket removing his standard issue potion. Then Spikehead headed towards the exit. Before he got there, Eddie and Sasha, the station's MP's, charged him.
Run, you idiots. Move!
Spikehead drew a six foot sword. Sasha opened fire, but Spikehead took the worst of it on his shoulder guard and charged her, cutting deep. Eddie charged him back, causing him to barely grunt. Sasha was still on her feet, if, barely, and squeezed off another round, which missed entirely, but Spikehead was stunned that she was still alive and faltered. He sheathed his sword. For a fraction of a second Evan thought he was about to surrender, but then he saw the materia glow. A bolt of lightning blasted Eddie, who was burnt to red ash. Spikehead charged Sasha again and she went down. Spikehead ran outside.
The result was never in doubt. MPs were trained to keep civilians in line, not combat. Any fewer than five against a trained opponent was a joke. He wondered who had trained Spikehead.
His mind was wandering. A bad sign. He slowly pushed himself away from the train until he lay on his back, despite the agony. Removing his helmet, he took out the elixir he kept there. It had cost him three weeks wages, but it was worth it now. His hand slipped, and the elixir hit the ground and broke. One half landed intact. He lapped up the remains of the contents before pushing his panic button-the one that activated the scorpion guard and told the non-combat employees to flee-before unconsciousness claimed him.