Disclaimer: this is a fanfiction, and I do not own Cezary Regard and/or Valkyria Chronicles. They are owned by SEGA. If by chance that you have gone in a killing spree after reading this fic, it's not my fault. This is a bunch of electronic bytes that form into words. It's an inanimate object and it cannot hurt anyone.
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Kevin was out of breath when he stopped in the middle of a grove. He felt it coming, and it is coming fast. He unfolded his shovel and started digging furiously. He paused—a mistake—and he could almost feel it.
Before he could let it take over, he tried thinking something else. Anything, just for a mere distraction. He thought of… being in enemy territory. Imps could be around at any moment! He has to finish this soon and get back to base before they found him out.
Kevin speared the mossy ground again. Just a little more…
"Kevin!" a pissed off Alex shouted from afar, echoing across Kloden. "Where'd you run off to, you asshole?"
No reply.
He followed the footprints. Rain was heavy yesterday, so it is clear where Kevin wandered off to. Alex switched his gun sling from one shoulder to the other before continuing forward. He was nervous. They were the vanguard of the Gallian Militia, and that means that there are no allies in this direction. Well, besides Kevin, and Alex does not like the thought of that.
He shouted Kevin's name again. Still no response.
Alex was getting angrier and angrier. Kevin couldn't have gone that far, can he?
And all of a sudden, Kevin screamed. It sounded like pure terror, or a little girl. Alex hid behind a tree and looked real hard into the forest.
Kevin continued screaming as he was running towards him. Alex unslung his MAGS and aimed behind Kevin. He waited but he could not see who or what Kevin is running away from. No gunshots, no engines, nothing.
"Kevin!" Alex shouted, waving his arm. "Over here!"
Kevin saw him and quickly changed directions.
"We've gotta get out of here!" Kevin shouted. He grabbed Alex's shoulder and pulled.
Alex against his hold. "Whoa there, who-AAAGH!" He held his nose at the offensive smell. "Did you swam in a sewer or something?"
"There's no time for that!" Kevin said. He does not want to admit he crapped his pants, after all. "I saw the Slingray!"
Alex blinked his eyes. From confusion, not the smell. "The Sling-what?"
"The Slingray!" He pointed at the direction he came from. "Look!"
Alex followed where he is pointing. "Kevin, I don't see anything."
Kevin panicked nonetheless. "It's coming!" He turned and ran ahead. "Run for your life, Alex! Run for your life!"
"Wait!" Alex said, reaching out for him, but Kevin was gone with the wind.
He looked back to where Kevin pointed, but he can only see trees and bushes. It could not have been the local fauna, can it? That is… until he saw something moving. It was a bush, or a tall rotten tree, floating towards Alex.
Alex screamed and went after Kevin.
A silver haired soldier was inserting 9mm bullets into a magazine when he heard a commotion. He dropped the magazine on the table, grabbed his rifle, and exited the tent. His snow blue eyes followed the stream of militiamen heading to the procession outside. He listened for artillery shells, gun fire, but there are not any. It does not look like the Imperials are counterattacking, so why the fuss?
Normally, he would check it out himself, but why should he? If the ruckus had any weight, they would be orders flying around. Why work when they could come to him? He went back to the tent and resumed filling the magazine. Let them come to him.
Minutes passed, the tent flap opened.
"Lieutenant Gunther wants to see you," said Vyse.
He was right. The gods do write his stories.
He stood up and faced Vyse. Lance Corporal Cezary Regard, the Anti Sniper. The Eye Gouger. The Clearer of Signals. The Breaker of Sights. The Rifle Whisperer. The Un-Darcsened. He was The Cure.
Cezary grabbed his rifle. "Let's go."
At the command building, Cezary entered Welkin's office.
He saluted at the man on the desk. "Sir, Lance Corporal Cezary Regard, reporting, sir!"
The 2nd Lieutenant Welkin Gunther returned the salute and gestured him to seat. Flanking him from either side is Sgt. Alicia Melchiott, and Sgt. Largo Porter. The atmosphere was so thick you could cut it with a blunt knife.
"LCpl. Regard," Welkin started. "You must be aware about our situation right now."
"…Yes, sir," Cezary lied.
Odin, he thought, maybe I should've asked someone what happened before I went here. I might have to wing this one.
Welkin shuffled the papers on his hands. "Well, as you can witness, the whole platoon is breaking apart."
Okay, I really regret not asking. What the Hel is happening out there?
"Is it that serious, sir?" Cezary asked.
Welkin sighed. "I know. It's ridiculous." He got up and stood in front of the window. "But here we are now. The Slingray is stalking our perimeter for some reason, and we got multiple witnesses saying the same thing. I always figured it's just a Kloden Boogeyman, something you spook your children to sleep, but here we are now."
Unbeknownst to Welkin, he lost Cezary from the Slingray part.
"Sir, this is the first time I heard this 'Slingray'. This is my first time I've been to Kloden, after all."
"Fair point," Largo consented. "To make the long story short, it's a floating vine monster that targets the wicked hearted. Gone at it for like two thousand years. If one of its thousand vines touch you, you'll rot in seconds."
"A myth," Welkin said. "But everybody's convinced it's the Slingray. I tried ordering some Scouts to check it themselves, but they won't listen to me. Can you believe that? They're more scared of the Slingray than insubordination!" He tisked. "An army can't function like this."
"Permission to speak, sir?" Cezary said. Welkin nodded. "Sir, I hunt humans. Not monsters. What do you expect me to do?"
"Your mission," Alicia said, handing a file to Cezary, "is a patrol. Take two men and take this route. On foot. We've got to show the men that we have nothing to fear from this Slingray, or whatever it is. As you may know, the Regular Army sent reinforcements in order to push the battle lines. We're chasing the Imperials up to the border. But since we've done the hard part, we've been given light duties. We sent Sgt. O'Hara to check up on a radio tower, and we want a written report on the tower's condition. We can't bog down our own radios for this task. It's in your route, so ask for her report and get back."
Cezary studied the map and noted the distance. He guessed that, with breaks, the three of them would be back at camp at sundown. Seems easy enough of a deal, that is…
"What if I made contact with the Slingray?"
Welkin sighed. "You won't. It's a myth."
Alicia continued. "We don't know if command will order us to join the chase. We need to settle this monster hunt quick and get our platoon back in the mindset before they can give the order."
"And don't tell Catherine about this," Welkin added.
"Yes, sir," Cezary replied.
"Good. I want to keep this situation contained. Meaning that explaining it to the Captain is purely optional. Right?" Welkin looked at Largo. "Right?"
Largo chuckled. "Don't know what you mean, sir."
"Don't sass me, Largo. Who won the bet?"
"You, sir." Largo continued chuckling. Alicia made a small smile.
Cezary trudged through the woods in search of the mythical Slingray. Even though he has no orders to engage it, he made it his (personal) mission to kill it. Before setting off, he asked around camp for more info about the creature. Pvt. Nancy Dufour, surprisingly, provided the most detailed description. She and her family vacationed around these parts. As Cezary listened, a light bulb flashed above his head. Nancy warned Cezary that most of the info she provided was from a tourist trap, but he did not listen after that. By the end of this mission, the world will remember the name Cezary Regard!
Accompanying him are two of his most trusted compatriots. On his right is Pvt. Knute Jung. The Shadow Recorder. The Rubber of Palms. The Wrench to your Bank. The Unsupplied. He was The Biographer.
"According to Nancy," Knute said, holding a notepad close to his nose, "the Slingray dwells wear the vegetation is more rotten."
"I'll keep that in mind," Cezary replied.
Cezary's Biographer, to be specific. After being unceremoniously conscripted by the government (i.e. kidnapped), and in turn, cutting off from his latest entrepreneurial adventures (a bad one, when Knute thought of it in hindsight), he made it his sole mission to write first-hand accounts of the Militia on this war. Might as well put some investments here while the fight is on.
There are two books he is working on. One on the 3rd Militia Regiment, and the other, the more profitable one, is the adventures of Cezary Regard. When Knute asked Cezary for his blessing, Cezary was (silently) salivating at the idea. Not only can he gain immortality, he can get rich too!
So onward then, he kept him close to give him exclusive interviews, while acting nonchalant and indifferent about it, and to subtly negotiate on the royalty rate. Knute has no doubt that Cezary's life is a more marketable idea than the Regiment's accounts (other soldiers would most definitely have the same idea, after all), so a little leeway is best for both parties, lest they make no profit at all.
"Wait a minute!" Kevin shouted on his left, which Cezary shushed. Kevin lowered his voice. "We're not seriously chasing a monster, are we?"
"If we find it," Cezary replied, "we'll deal with it. If you don't like thinking about it, pretend we're on a trip."
Kevin sighed. "O-Okay."
That pathetic little fella on his left was Pvt. Kevin Abbott. The Clown Warrior. The Cut of Bowls. The Jester on the Battlefield. The Three-Way Finagle. The Flimflam Failure. The Unsuccessful. He was The Foil.
Cezary's Foil, unfortunately (for Kevin). When the two first met at Fort Amatriaine, Cezary could not help but feel bad for this tortured creature. This grown man, 25 and still not dead, just came to the fort with his parents. No one would have minded if it were not for the fact that his mother kept saying 'Don't drink tap water' or 'Make a lot of friends, honey' or 'Brush your teeth twice a day'. Everybody could hear them.
To be not Cezary is agony enough, but living a second as Kevin, who asked the drill sergeant for the bathroom at the first day of retraining, who asks out the first girl who he thought was onto him (it was Pvt. Edy Nelson), who insists on a bowl cut, who makes an asthmatic 15 year-old look like a battle-hardened soldier, who drops a live training grenade on his feet, who freely admits that he pisses on his bed at 17, who is only likeable by Darcsens and Darcsen lovers, who fails at almost every single exercise the drill sergeant in the entire retraining regimen, makes a gas attack look welcoming.
Then how could Cezary, who has ten-times the reliability, ten-times the intensity, and ten-times the sex appeal, ever befriended this tool? A tool has to be useful, after all. The reason for that is because of Knute. After explaining the financial feasibility of Cezary's own biography, wheels were turning inside Cezary's grey matter.
On his own, Cezary was a guy who dropped out of high school and joined the Militia early for a job. How in Europa's name could he stand out during the war? And then he saw Kevin, puking his guts out after doing a push-up too many. He saw his stepping stone. Later that night, while Kevin was punished to march ten laps around the fort in full gear, Cezary and Knute joined him on his laps.
He then gave Kevin tips on breathing so that he would not fall down on the ground and flop like a fish after a light workout. He would give him pointers on how to shoot better so that he would be a danger to the enemy rather than his allies. He would glare at him at each sit-up, remind him at each grenade toss, and be an overall pain in the ass until Kevin gets it right.
He could have just let Kevin get a broken leg and get shipped home, but why would he let this opportunity go? This waste of sperm and human decency can make a complete shut-in retard look smart. Who knows what will happen if you put this guy next to Cezary? And Cezary not only captured a platoon's respect with the effort alone, he also gained one of the most loyal peo—I mean, friend he could ever wish for. Just as planned. The opening chapter in Knute's book is complete.
Back at the forest, the trio walked in silence. The only thing they could hear are the chirps of the forest birds and the mud sucking at each foot step. Occasionally, gunfire echoed in the distance. Singular bangs, but no extended firefight.
Their noses flinched at the smell of rotting vegetation. They are now in a swamp. Here, the light dimmed and the ground is even muddier. Moss creeped into places where the sun or moon cannot see. And the smell! Knute's first entrepreneurial foray involves pig farming (which was very profitable, in hindsight), but this miasma is even worse.
Cezary breathed through the mouth, and said, "All right, people. We're in Slingray country now. Keep your heads in a swivel, and call out for anything suspicious. Don't engage, just call them."
"Cezary," Knute called.
"Yeah?"
Knute was sweating and smiling. "Are you going to—"
"Not yet. Just hold on to it." Beforra, guy's just too damn excited, Cezary thought. In normal circumstances, I think he's more in to this monster hunt than I do.
"G-Guys," Kevin said. "Can we just, pass through this forest and head straight to Sgt. O'Hara?"
"And we will," Cezary said. "See, we'll walk in a straight line. If we find the Slingray, however, we have to deal with it." That last part was not included in the orders, but Cezary needs the team together. Especially Kevin since he can identify the Slingray for him.
"Just don't crap pants when we find him, Kevin," Knute said.
"I won't!" Kevin was forced to wear brown Imperial pants. No one really got spares.
They went deeper into the swamp. They had to walk over where the tree roots are so that they do not have to fight the mud. Kevin almost slipped twice because of the wet moss. So far, they were making good progress. So far, they have not encountered the monster. Their ears are open and their eyes are keen, but there was nothing out of the ordinary.
When they found vines, Knute spoke out.
"Don't touch the vines." They passed through. "The legends say they rot you when you touch them, but other accounts say they just lead you to rot. The Slingray has tons of them. Some real, some not. You could tell the difference in day time. The fake vines would look transparent, like tinted glass. But don't touch them. If you think they're real, your body will still rot if you touch them. Your mind does the rest for you."
"I don't see the difference between the real and fake vines," Kevin said.
"You can in daylight!"
"We don't touch them," Cezary said. "Period."
A few moments later, Knute spoke again.
"Look! 10'o!"
They raised their weapons and took cover, except Knute, who continued walking to the spot he pointed out. After a few moments, he ran back, not in terror, but in glee.
"I found it!" he shouted. "I found one of the Slingray's nodes. Come on!"
"Wait," Cezary said, but Knute grabbed his arm and dragged him to the spot he pointed out.
"What are you doing?" Cezary angrily asked.
"Making money, Cezary." He pushed Cezary near to what seems like a puddle of pure darkness.
It was a circle (a perfect one at that), about the size of a living room rug, and smells like someone vomited on it. Cezary almost gagged at the stench. In the middle of it is a large flat mossy rock, barely above the surface. Or at least that was what Cezary thinks.
"I can't believe we found it." He opened his bag and began digging. "It's one of the Slingray's stomachs. There are one in each of the Nine Realms."
"Oh Odin," Kevin said, standing well behind the two. "We're not really doing this, are we? I don't think it's wise to mess with the creatures of the Gods."
"Well, we need to win the war," Cezary said, stepping back. His hand reached out to Knute. "Knute?"
Smiling creepily, Knute brought out the flame thrower and handed it to Cezary. It was the size of a fat pistol, except in place of a magazine is a canister filled with Ragnoline. It was meant to be under the barrel of a MAGS, but many Shocktroopers (from the Regular Army) opt to remove it since it became too cumbersome.
Cezary searched for the safety. "Remind me again how you got this?" The Militia have yet to be issued advance equipment such as these, much less a helmet.
Knute chuckled. "Let's just say I found a Regular who had a lighter but no smokes." Knute coughed. "We're going to have to give it back, so… don't scratch it."
After turning the safeties off, Cezary waved the other two to stand back. He aimed the muzzle at the mossy stone in the middle of the pool and pulled the trigger. Cobalt blue flames shot out of the flamethrower, and Cezary stopped. He saw the surface of the pool ignited in green, then to red. It spread around the pool like a cleansing wave. He thought it was his imagination at first, but Cezary could breathe easier.
From HQ, Lt. Gunther had his binoculars pointed at the pillar of smoke over at the forest. "Did they do it?" he asked.
"It's done," Cezary said, walking back to his team.
With the node gone, according to the legends, the Slingray will lose its sustenance in this realm. It will go back to whence it came, and terrorize some other realm. Cezary does not know if there are any truth in these legends, but this act alone will be enough to quell the fear of the Militia. If the node opens again, it will open in another time and in another place.
Knute and Kevin clapped. "We cauterized a wound in Midgard," Knute said. "What do you say? Cezary, the Monster Slayer. Cezary, who Burned Water."
They laughed as the forest glowed orange.
"Mission is a success, team," Cezary said, smiling at them. "Come on. We got a meeting with O'Hara."
He gave the flamethrower back to Knute. Before they could walk away, Kevin screamed.
Cezary and Knute turned to him with alarm. He was screaming and pointing at the burning pond.
"What is it?" Knute asked Kevin.
Cezary saw it, however. At the shore of the pond, a black thing was laying on the ground. He soon realized that it was a man. A torso of a man.
Knute yelped at the sight, and the three quickly backed away, raising their guns.
"Where in Odin did that come from?" Knute fearfully asked.
Cezary could not process an answer. "Did it," Cezary started, and then he gulped. "Did anybody saw it when we came here?"
"I didn't!"
"Beforra. Did it float out of the pond?"
"Odin, stop it!" Kevin said. "Let's just run!"
"Wait!" Cezary shouted. He was staring at the corpse and noticed something. "The helmet. He's one of ours!"
"Not anymore," Knute said.
Maybe I should ignore this guy and ask someone else to collect the body, Cezary thought. But the two are looking at me. Damn me, I can't let them think I'm scared. I was destined to be the Hero of Gallia; it's written in the stars! I can't be one if I'm scared of a corpse.
Cezary pulled himself out of his stupor and slowly walked forward.
"What are you doing?" Knute asked.
"Get back here!" Kevin shouted.
"I'm not leaving a man to be forgotten," Cezary declared. "I don't know how he died, but I'd be damned to leave without anyone knowing he did."
Cezary slowly approached the torso. The fire was dying, so it is not as hot as he thought it would be. The corpse, however, is singeing. Once he was near, Cezary could smell the burnt flesh. The man was faced down and looks like he was covered in tar. His hip and anything under it is gone. From the look of the marks, it looks like he was pushed out of the pond, which was impossible to what Cezary can understand.
Cezary pulled out his gloves and pulled him to face up. He does not mind if it gets dirty since the damn thing is a hindrance to his shooting. He will throw it away afterwards.
He gagged at the sight of the corpse's face and quickly focused on his neck. He felt around and found what he was looking for. He pulled it out and headed back to his team.
"Water," Cezary said and Knute quickly pulled out his canteen. Cezary looked at Kevin and said, "Got a spare hanky?"
The three cleaned the grime off the dog tag.
Cezary read the indention and cursed. "Beforra! It's 3rd Platoon!"
"3rd Platoon, eh?" Knute said, taking the dog tag with Kevin's handkerchief. "Those guys were supposed to cut the Imp retreat while we attacked the supply base. Unfortunately, they had to retreat when they made contact with enemy reinforcement."
"Couldn't blame them," Kevin said. "That super advance tank the Imp brought up almost blew up the Edelweiss."
"Half of 3rd Platoon got cut down when they retreated, right?" Cezary said.
"Officially," Knute replied. "But I talked to one of them when I was hunting for a flamethrower, and given on what we have here—" he looked at the dog tag, "—what he said started to make sense. He said that 3rd Platoon was ready to engage the enemy reinforcements, thinking that they could stall them. While they were shooting, they noticed that a large number of their own force are not firing. There was no winning the skirmish after that, so they left. They searched the area for the missing the day after the battle. They were never found, and so their platoon leader wrote them off as KIA, even though no one saw the bodies."
Better dead than deserted, Cezary thought.
"Does that mean," Kevin started, "the Slingray got them?"
Cezary shrugged. "I say they deserved it." He took the dog tag from Knute, wrapping it inside another handkerchief before stuffing it into his pocket. He looked at their faces. "We're done here."
They reached the radio tower where Catherine and the others are holed up. Reconnaissance said that the Imps blew the thing up before they left, which left Cezary wandering why the tower is still up. Once he got closer, it became clear to him. The Imps planted a bomb on one of its legs, but it had not toppled down. It was standing on just three.
Sgt. Catherine O'Hara was given the task to guard a squad of Engineers while they fix the radio tower. They could not, according to Catherine.
"The tower itself is not the problem," she said. They were sitting inside a shack. "If a tornado passes by this part of the forest, the damn thing wouldn't bow. Tower was Empire made, so it is. No, the problem is the control device, or whatever it was called. When Ivan took strolled by, they snipped the wires and riddled the equipment like it was target practice. Wires are as many as shee in the wind, but the Engineers said that we're a wee short of parts to fix the equipment. We have to get back to the capital for them, so it is. They did try wiring the tower and our radio packs. No luck."
He waited for her to continue as he jutted down notes on his notepad. She did not, so he asked, "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why didn't it work?"
She shrugged. "Hel if I know. They said something about the power not converting. Ask Homer if you're so interested."
Cezary looked over his shoulder. "Knute?"
"On it," he said before leaving.
Back to Catherine. "Let's move on. Enemy activity?"
"We asked a local from Zutphen; a border town. He kindly informed us that Ivan passed by his house and left Gallia last night. He counted fifty-two trucks, thirty-one APCs, twenty light tanks, four mediums, and one heavy."
Cezary raised an eyebrow. "Awfully precise of him."
"He wrote it down, like a true blue Gallian."
"Are you sure there aren't any stragglers? I heard a shots fired on my way here."
She scratched her chin. "That must be the 105th Regulars. They're the only ones on the border."
After writing down the time, the direction and the name of the source, Cezary then asked, "Have you heard of the Slingray?"
She thought of it for a bit. "No. Is it some kind of kids toy?"
"It's a monster here in Kloden. Local legend. Our boys found it and it was scaring the ghost out of everyone. You got time for a chat?"
She shook her head. "Maybe next time. I have orders for an expedition around the border. That is if they could fix the jeep!" The last part was directed at the engineers.
Cezary did notice a plume of smoke when he arrived here.
"Is this Slingray serious?" Catherine said.
He smiled. "It's a thing of the past."
After eating lunch and a taking a slight rest, the trio started their long journey back to the supply base. Cezary felt something atop of his skull. He looked up and saw dim clouds. It was not soon before it pours. An hour in, the rain dropped heavier. They were cold and battered, but they are soldiers. The three of them had to crawl in the mud at the last battle. Cezary felt a bit cleansed with the rain.
That is until the sleet came.
Cezary looked around and saw a small cabin deep inside the woods. He shouted at the others to follow him. Once inside, they collapsed on the floor.
"S-S-So cold," Cezary chattered. This is coming from a guy who lived in a dessert.
"N-Nice find, Cezary," Knute said. He took out boots and socks. He turned his boots upside down and placed them on a corner and hung his socks on the windowsill. The others did the same.
The cabin itself is empty except for a wooden bedframe and something on the back. It was draped. Kevin got curious and peeked inside.
"Guys, I found a hearth!"
The other two immediately walked over. Kevin pulled the cover to reveal a stone hearth.
"Odin watch us!" Knute said. "This is p-perfect!"
Cezary then said, "Let's pull up some planks and start a fire."
Pulling the planks was easy as the cabin itself must be about twenty years old or older. The nails are rusted to the point of disintegration. To their surprise, the grass under the cabin is dry. As Cezary pulled the grass, he noticed something.
"Huh," he said as he reached down. The bottom of the cabin is deeper than he thought.
He reached down to see how deep he it is, and yelped when he almost fell over.
"Something wrong," Kevin asked as he was breaking the planks into pieces with his knee.
"Nothing," Cezary said, keeping a cool face. "I'm just wondering why—"
And then the planks he was kneeling on gave away. He screamed his lungs out, diving head first into the ground. He fell and, in slow realization, found out that there is no ground. He was falling into a world without light, and all of a sudden, he body was hitting a nest of branches. He grunted as they hit him while he fell, and then it stopped.
He opened his eyes, not realizing that it was closed at all, to darkness. He was facing up, according to gravity. His body was constricted by the thorny embrace of twigs and sticks, and he could feel a warm ooze from his face and his palm. He was grasping the branches as it was the only thing keeping him alive; cuts be damned. He dared not move, because his back can feel nothing but empty space. If he moves an inch, utter a single word, who knows where he will go.
"…ary…" someone said. Cezary recognized Kevin's voice from anywhere, but why is he so far away? Cezary could not have fallen that far, did he?
He waited for Kevin to say more, and then he heard a snap. He retightened his grip, and he could feel his legs dropping.
"Kevin!" he screamed before he dropped again.
And then he hit the ground again; no soft/sharp landing this time. He landed on his back. Pain flared up like firecrackers up his spine. He screamed as a result and groaned. He took a minute for it to subside.
He breathes irregularly, and loudly. He assessed the situation. He opened his eyes and there is nothing but darkness. His fingers felt the ground. It was mossy and wet.
"Kevin?" he said. "Knute?" He shifted his head and then stopped.
Craning his head at the back, he could see light! He labored up to his feet, clumsily. His sniper rifle, slung across his body, was getting in the way. For a moment, he was glad that he did not let go of his gun, but he wished he had his boots as well.
Before he investigates the light, he reached up to the ceiling. There was nothing there. He used his rifle, but it touched nothing. With no results, he left for the light. The ground was slippery with moss, so Cezar had to walk slowly to the light. What he saw next made his eye bulge.
There was an outline near the light. A human one.
"Hey!" Cezary shouted, waving his arms.
"Is someone there?" the outline asked. It surprised Cezary, but he was glad nonetheless.
"Yeah! I'm from the Militia!"
"How did you get here?" someone else asked from the light.
"I fell. I was in a cabin with my fire team. It was raining ice and we had nowhere to go. We had this idea that we could make a fire with the planks, and I fell when the floor collapsed. What about you guys?"
They were silent for moment. "We also found a cabin."
"Really?" Cezary could almost laugh. "Did the cabin have a green roof and red door?"
"It does!"
"Thor Almighty," Cezary muttered.
Not at the coincidence, but what is right in front of him. He was ten feet away from the light, which was nothing he expected it to be. It was a slimy globe, glowing an eerie yellow glow in the middle of the room. How it produces light, only the gods know.
Another surprise is the two men near it.
"You're 3rd Platoon," Cezary said. The two were wearing the 3rd Platoon logo on their shoulder. "This is where you guys went for all this time?"
"I believe so," one on the right side said. "Name's Jayson. My pal right there is Sebastian." Sebastian waved and smiled weakly.
Cezary cleared his throat. "LCpl. Cezary Regard, 7th Platoon."
"Nice to meet you, Regard," Jayson said. "Have a sit." They all sat on the mossy ground. "How's the war?" Cezary noticed how dry his throat was.
"We pushed Ivan out of the southern borders. It'll give the central forces some space."
He looked at the two. Their faces were pallid, meaning they have been out of the sunlight from some time. Their eyes were bloodshot, and they have scratches all over their faces. Their uniforms did not fare better either. At least they have their MAGS slung behind them.
"You guys look like crap. Fell badly, didn't ya?"
"You aren't good looking either," Jayson said.
Cezary nodded. "How long have you two been here? What is this place?"
The cave is covered in moss, but there is a hole in the wall (beside the one he exited before). There are also parts of the wall that are composed of thin green branches. He looked up the ceiling and it was dizzyingly high. Cezary wondered how he survived the fall.
"We don't know. We couldn't afford watches. And to where we are, take a guess. We've been digging that hole the whole time. We think there's something on the other side. Something… calling for us."
Cezary's eyes widened. "Really? Like telepathy?" A dagger of pure ice slid down his spine.
"Tele-what?"
Cezary shook his head. "H-How did you know it's calling you?"
"I—you know, forget about that. We just dug that hole because it's the easiest to dig through."
He looked at the opening and it was made out of rock. How did they manage to dig through that? Cezary asked himself.
"Is there anything behind those branches?" Cezary pointed at the wall fill with branches.
"We tried, but they always grow back."
"That bad, huh. What about that one?" Cezary pointed behind him. "Where does that go?"
They were silent. Sebastian opened his mouth and said, "We—"
"It's a dead end," Jayson interrupted. "We tried."
Cezary frowned. "Damn shame." He reached to his back for his canteen. "You need water? It doesn't sound like you had any."
"You… Save it."
"Are you sure?" He looked at Sebastian. "You?" Sebastian shook his head. "Okay."
He puts away the canteen. Although he wants to drink a mouthful himself, it would be like eating a bucket of fried chicken in front of beggars.
"You know," Cezary started, "your platoon wrote you guys dead."
"Wouldn't surprise me," Jayson said.
"Your commander is dead, by the way."
"…I see."
"I see? He died looking for you guys." Cezary sighed. "It's like you don't know the guy, do you?"
"I remember him a little."
Cezary could not believe his ears. "You guys don't remember Ghirlandaio?" He looked at them, waiting for an answer. "When Ivan broke through the fort, 3rd Regiment was supposed to stop them from getting through. They couldn't do that because you guys ran away! 3rd Platoon was supposed to be on the flank. Everything fell off, the Empire got through and because of you…" Cezary almost said, 'Because of you, it gave the Militia a bad reputation forever.' He just bit his lip.
"You weren't there, Cezary."
"Of course I wasn't. I was at Naggiar at that time. We couldn't go toe to toe with Ivan on open ground, so we retreated." He sighed again. He needs to change the subject. "Are you sure that hole is the only way out?"
"It makes sense."
Cezary sighed. "You guys got a flash light? A lighter?"
Sebastian reached for his pocket and pulled out a standard issued flashlight. It was angle headed and colored Gallian blue. Cezary took it and stood up.
"Be right back."
He went back into the tunnel and retraced his steps. He periodically raised the flashlight up at the ceiling as he goes. The ceiling was filled with brown and dry branches. His heart elated as he found the thing he was looking for.
Cezary jogged back to the other two.
"Jayson, Sebastian, I need you two to give me your slings."
"What?" Jayson said.
"Your slings. I found a hole that I fell through earlier. It's high up, but If you give me your slings and your belts, I can make a makeshift grappling hook and reach it. We can get out of here!"
"You can do that?"
"Yes! I've been in the Militia for seven years. I took up advance training, so this is easy for me. Come on, your slings."
They were both silent.
"Beforra, what are you looking at me like that for? We have a way out!" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do you two want to get out of here? What's the deal, huh? Ever since we met, I thought you guys would be excited to see another human being." They did not even raise their guns at a total stranger. "It's like I'm talking to a pair of zombies! Don't you want to see your platoon again? Do you want to starve here?"
Their mouths remained shut.
"Fine. Give me the slings. I'll come back for you." They were still staring at him. "It's either your slings or your shirts." He walked towards Sebastian and reached out to him. "It's not like I'm—"
Sebastian grabbed Cezary's hand. It was not that fast, nor was the grip strong. It was his hand itself that gives Cezary worry. His hand was cold as ice, with skin rougher than sandpaper. But that was not the worst. It felt like a thousand wriggling worms are underneath his skin.
"What the Hel?" Cezary said, yanking his hand off.
As soon as he did, Sebastian lunged at Cezary. He tried to bite him, but Cezary held him off by pushing his neck away. He ignored the objects that twists inside Sebastian's neck and pushed. Once he has enough space, Cezary kicked Sebastian to the ground.
"What's with you two?" He raised his rifle at Jayson. He was unslinging his SMG. "Don't you dare!" Jayson leveled his weapon, and Cezary blew up his knee.
To Cezary's horror, Jayson's knee exploded in a shower of maggots. Black spotted maggots spilled all over the mossy floor. Jayson was force to kneel down, and his impassive face stared at Cezary's fearful eyes. Maggots ate out of his cheeks. No blood, just maggots. Cezary knew what needed to be done.
Before Jayson could do anything, Cezary pulled the bolt of his rifle and shot him at the nose. As soon as Jayson fell, Sebastian lunged at Cezary again. This time, Cezary held up his rifle against Sebastian's chest. Having a better footing, Cezary again shoved Sebastian down on the ground. He used his rifle stock to bash Sebastian's head in. It took him three hits before Sebastian's entire head erupted into a pool of larvae.
Once he was done, Cezary forced himself to breathe. His heart was running a hundred miles per minute, and there was a ringing in his ear. He always killed from afar, and even though these things are not human, it was still a jarring experience from him.
When a maggot crawled up his pants, his mind reeled back to the real world. He quickly swiped the maggots off his pants and bent down to grab the SMG. He stopped. Maggots were all over it. It was a silly thing to fear since he knows they only eat dead things. It took him a second before he remembered why he needs it.
Once he got the gun, he took the magazines from the two corpses. He also took their dog tags. He needed some evidence regarding on what truly happened to 3rd Platoon, even though Cezary himself could not explain how they turned up this way. The maggots popped and cracked as he stepped over them. It was not a long time ago when he fired his last MAGS. He knows how to operate it, clean it, and shoot it.
He got the gun, the ammo, and the slings. He tied the slings into a cord and tied a knife at one end. He remembered about getting out of here together, and then he realized that these two were dead all along. He wondered how it was possible that they could talk, have a conversation, or let alone a cognizant thought even though they were made out of skin and larvae.
His mind dwelled deeper into a dark valley, and he quickly pulled himself out of it. He shook his head and headed towards the tunnel. He directed his flashlight into the musky abyss.
He lit it up, and a dozen or more people shuffled appeared in the tunnel. Cezary screamed and backed away. Some of them are from the Militia, while others were wearing the skin of civilians. They were armed with knives, pitchforks and handguns. Cezary shot the ones with the handguns first. It was hard because Cezary had to hold the flashlight and shoot at the same time.
To his horror, there are more monsters right behind them. He backed up, thinking of a way to get out. His ears twitched, and he turned around and saw more skin bags at the hole Jayson and Sebastian were digging. They were crawling out of it, silent as they approached. Cezary backed up again.
Then someone grabbed his shoulder from behind. Cezary turned his head and screamed at the headless Sebastian. Cezary pulled his shoulders away and kicked back. Sebastian disappeared.
Cezary blinked, but Sebastian did disappear! Not in a shower of maggots, but into thin air! And then Cezary noted where the headless man had gone to. It was into the wall of green branches. Even though he is pressed for time, Cezary needs to confirm it himself. He poked the branches with the muzzle of his SMG…
And it passed through.
Cezary gasped. It was like there was nothing there. He reached for the branches, and his hand grabbed into nothing. It was way out, he thought. How was this possible? The branches looked as solid as the real thing. What kind of world did he get himself into?
Cezary decided to not look at the gift horse in the mouth as his pursuers are closing in. He needed some space, so he held his breath and leaped through.
He then entered into another world. He flashed his light in front of him and saw vines. Vines, long and hairy, hung up from ceiling and reaching down inches from the floor. And the floor, by Thor! It is littered in human skin! And the smell! For some reason the place smelled like a combination of daisies and death. It is like he entered into a flower shop at a scene of a massacre.
Before he could react, he heard footsteps behind him. The pillar, which Cezary assumes where he came from, is spawning out monsters. A skin bag, wearing skin of a dirty farmer, was aiming his pitchfork straight at his chest. He yelped and sidestepped, bringing his foot up to trip him. The skin bag lost his balance and grabbed one of the vines, and before Cezary could make out what is happening, the vine immediately wrapped around the skin bag and pulled him up into the air.
Cezary screamed at the sight, but he followed the vine with his flashlight. Up in the ceiling, a purple flower, the size of a small car, pulled the skin bag into its thorny petals and ate it up. There was an audible crunch. Cezary almost fainted at the sight. These oddly beautiful flowers are everywhere in the ceiling. Their plant tongues are hanging in the air, waiting for another victim. And then Cezary noticed that not all vines are connected to the flowers. They hung in darkness.
He then thought of the Slingray.
He heard more footsteps behind him, and he knew he needs to move. He walked forward, stepping over the floor of skins and ancient clothes. The vines were everywhere, but the gaps are wide enough for him to walk through without disturbing them. Cezary froze at sight in front of him.
It was Sebastian again, ten feet away from him. He had a broken ankle, but he kept going forward.
"I had enough with you," Cezary seethed. He raised the machine gun with both hands, lining the flashlight under the muzzle, and opened fire, giving him five shots to the chest.
The maggots flew into the air, and were caught by the vine's hair. A dozen or so vines quickly pulled up. But there are others, some nearer to Sebastian's, did not flinch.
Cezary remembered that confusing warning Knute gave. 'Some vines are real, but others are fake', or so he says. But what about the 'if you think they're real, they will act like they're real'. This was confusing Cezary again, so he moved forward to test it. He waved the muzzle of his gun at the vine near the fallen Sebastian…
And it passed through!
It's a fake! Cezary thought. So this is what Knute meant. Cezary pondered on the legend, how people in the past figured it out. In an optimistic note, if they were able to tell the legend before, that means the people back then had also escaped! But how?
He pondered no longer as the skin bags behind him are giving chase. He looked behind and saw that they are wary of the vines, slowing down their pursuit. That would give him some time. Cezary moved forward, touching the vines with his gun, passing through the incorporeal vines. When he touched a solid one, he stopped. Thankfully, the vine did not react, so he avoided it.
He was making good progress, and before he knew it, his adversaries were a hundred yards away. He flashed the light around to see if there is a way out, but it is difficult with the vine on the way. He came to another pillar like the one he escaped, but the moment he flashed it, monsters shuffled out of their intangible walls.
"Beforra," he cursed. They were wearing clothes he had never seen before, he noted.
Cezary stopped and thought for a moment. Running around at random would only just tire him. He looked for signs—any signs—for a way out. He shined his flashlight on the ground, to his left, right, and at the ceiling. He then found something odd. The ceiling was slanting upward on his right. He looked at the ground and it was following the same pattern, but not as steep. That settles it, for Cezary. If there is an exit out of here, it has to be up.
He moved towards the right. There were more pillars on the sides, each spawning more skin bags each time he flashed them. Each skin bag wearing more bizarre outfits than the last. He could have sworn one of them was wearing a mediaeval knight suit. They were harmless as long as they are not in range, but when Cezary thought he was safe, a shot rang out.
He looked behind him, but the flashlight cannot reach that far. Another shot, and a vine twitched, bleeding out a translucent fluid. Another shot, and three vines were hit this time. Cezary thought that the plants would shield him.
He faced forward, and saw an archer drawing his bow. He was wearing a gaudy robe and a hat with the widest brim. He was aiming his bow at Cezary.
"Not today," he said, and shot his knee. As expected, the archer tripped and touched a vine. The vine took him away.
Once he was out of the way, another archer was right behind him. Cezary calmly shot his knee, but this time, the archer fell on the ground. Cezary hurried forward before the archer gets back up, swiping the vines along the way.
The archer was kneeling with one knee before Cezary shot him at the face and the arm. He hurried to get past him. Cezary can hear a lot of footfalls nearby. He must have stumbled into a crowd of them. He plowed through regardless.
Soon, the ground was angling upward. It became more and more steeper as Cezary goes. He aimed the flashlight in front of him and saw a skin bag climbing down. The skin looked like one of those pike men, as if he jumped straight out of a history book. He shot his knee, and the vines took him back to the past, to which Cezary prays he stays there.
He climbed and saw a pair of shirtless axe men, waving their axes. Their chest was bulging with maggots, and there were a few holes that bled them. He shot the hip of one and he fell, causing the other to trip over him. Cezary hurried forward before they could catch up.
A Federation officer, dressed in a dirty dress uniform, shot out of Cezary's left. His right arm is gone, but his left is gripping a rusty sabre. He slashed and Cezary parried with his SMG. He slashed again, and Cezary stepped back. Sensing an opportunity, Cezary kicked him at the chest and the vines embraced him.
Cezary increased his pace, but the steepness of the terrain was tiring him out. Outwalking the walking dead while navigating around the vines makes the going harder. Their footsteps were everywhere, which gave him one less reason to rest.
And then it began to change.
First was the smell. It was bad enough before, but as he climbed further, it was even worse. The stench is indescribable. Cezary had to spelunk into sewers, walk over a field of rotting corpses, but nothing came close to this abomination! He gagged and breathed through his mouth.
Second was the heat. This cave-world was cold and humid when he came by. This long journey made him sweat like a pig, but after climbing this high, the heat started to spike. He looked left and right for signs of a fire, because it felt like he was near one. It came in waves, burning in one second, and cooling in one long moment.
And there was the light. The vines were blocking most of it, but he can almost see a green glow in the distance. It was gentle glow, but only in a literal sense, for Cezary felt the touch of evil as he climbed. His inner coward was welling up when he saw that eerie glow, but his fear for those behind him spurred him on.
He found himself in a ledge soon after. Slinging the gun over his shoulder, he jumped and pulled himself over. Once he got up, his eyes had trouble seeing anything.
"Beforra," he muttered before coughing.
In front of him was a sea of blackness; as far as the eye can see. The ground, only gravel and no skin, under him was reflecting the green light, but the source was from the sea, if Cezary could believe it. There are no vines around here. He walked forward and waved his flashlight over the darkness, and to his surprise there is a reflection. The water, if it could be called like that, had the darkest shade of purple. At a second glance, the water rarely moves. Like it was gelatin.
His head felt light. Is this world still Midgard? He had fallen from quite a height, but how far did he drop to make that ceiling that high up? Was the cabin next to a mountain? How was it possible for Kloden to have such a cave without anyone noticing it? Miners and their geologists have explored this area for Ragnite lodes since the Iron Uprising and no one has noticed, much less smelled, this place?
He the realized that he encountered this thing before. The Slingray's node. He recognizes it now, especially the smell. He was coughing as the miasma weighted heavily in his lungs. His legs wobbled and his eyes watered.
Cezary quickly dug into his pockets and pulled out a matchbook. He knows what he must do. His coughing made it harder for him to strike the match, and when he did, the yellow-green flame sputtered and died in less than two seconds. He flicked it off and picked out another one. As soon as it burned, he quickly touched it against the other match heads.
The matchbook burst into yellow and green flames. It was so fast that Cezary burned his own fingers, causing him to drop the thing. Fortunately, it dropped where Cezary wants it to. At the sea.
A ring of green fire formed on the surface. It quickly expanded, up to the shore and forward onto the horizon. It swelled and swelled until it became a tidal wave of green. For the first time, Cezary could breathe. The heaviness in the air was gone. Even the heat subsided, unexpectedly. He breathed and exhaled.
As he watched the green flame turn into orange, he then noticed how the flames move. Where the smoke is going. He followed the smoke and saw it was moving in one direction, as if siphoned. It must be a way out! The problem is that the exit is somewhere at the other side of the sea. He might have to follow the shore to get to it, but then he saw a black line in the middle of sea. His eyes followed the lines and saw it was cutting straight through the waters. That path connected to the shore is about hundred yards to his right. It would mean he has to walk through the fire. Should he risk it? He walked towards it before a shot rang out.
He looked behind him and saw a skin bag, in the skin of a policeman of some kind, aiming his pistol at Cezary. More of those monster is climbing up behind their friend. Cezary returned fire. More skin bags were climbing up the ledges, forcing Cezary to run away. The only way forward is where the smoke is going.
As he ran, more and more adversaries were climbing up to chase him. Without the vines, they ran as fast as their legs can take them. Arrows flew by, shots rang, but none of them hit Cezary.
He reached the shore where the black line. It was a black cobblestone path, just barely above the flaming surface of the sea. The path is wide enough to let two men to walk side by side. The wall of fire flanking at either side of the path made Cezary hesitate, but a heavy wind blew between the walls. It was pushing Cezary forward. A shot from behind spurred him to take the leap of faith.
The path was a bit slippery to trod on. He found difficulty on finding his footing, and so he jogged at a steady pace. The fire roared loudly at either side of him. There was heat, but the wind helped in keeping it away.
More shots came from behind. Cezary stopped and turned around to deal with the obstacle. The skin bags were crowding over the path, and all of them were on fire. Their body parts were ripping from its seams as maggots drop and pop like firecrackers. And despite all that, they all came forward.
Cezary put away his flashlight and aimed his MAGS at their knees. He fired in small bursts and in small arcs, ripping their legs apart and making them fall either on the ground or into the mucky waters. He turned and moved forward, reloading his weapon as he ran.
He turned around and dismayed as they were catching up on him. He thought that making them trip on each other would slow them down. Cezary sprayed his shots, damn if he wastes them, until the magazine emptied. More bodies fell on the sea. He ran, reloading. He stopped after a whole minute and repeated the process.
How they managed to run, much less move, while under fire is something Cezary could not understand. Nor can understand why Cezary himself is not burning. There is a burning sensation, he feels, yet he does not burn. Even the cobblestone path is cool on the touch.
His eyes widened at the object at the end of the road. It was an obsidian island, like one big black ball floating on a sea of fire. The road suddenly turned up, and Cezary was forced to climb the sphere. It was difficult climb as the surface is slippery with pungent oil, but there were enough crags for Cezary to make a foothold of.
He slipped and had to drop his MAGS to grab hold of the crags. His sling around his shoulder, which was yanked to his elbow, saved his gun from being gone. He climbed as though the monsters are breathing right down on his neck.
One of them managed to grab his ankle, which made Cezary scream out in fear. Without looking, he used one hand to grab his SMG and aimed it down at whoever is pulling him down. One burst, two bursts, and his leg lightened. He did not even check as he continued climbing.
At the top of the obsidian island, he collapsed on the oily, pungent ground in exhaustion. Ten seconds, he thought. Just give me ten seconds to breathe. He counted internally for ten long seconds before raising his head and his gun.
Cezary sat right up and faced the monsters. He can only see a pile of ashes at the base of the hill's slope. It was a heap of burning maggots from down there to the end of the road. The fire finally did its job. They pop and crackle, as if they were tinder. There were larger pops as gunpowder inside cartridges exploded.
Cezary slipped reached for his canteen, and noticed that his MAGS is missing. The sling is still there, but the gun is not attached. He did not have enough energy to care for it, and besides, there's always his sniper rifle. He drank the water and sighed in relief.
After twenty minutes of walking the road from the other side of the hill, following the smoke, he did not encounter another shore. The smoke led him to another uphill climb. Cezary pulled out his handkerchief and wrapped it around his face and started to climb again. As soon as he did, he realized how tired he was. He continued, on all fours, determined to leave this horrible place.
He climbed, squinting his eyes as the acrid smoke is around him. He blinked the pain away from his eyes as dust and ash passed through his eyelashes. He was now mostly feeling around which place to grab on to.
He climbed, and then the heat subsided. He climbed a bit more until his hand grabbed into air, causing him to drop face down on the ground. It was wet, muddy and icy to the touch. Ripping out his handkerchief mask, he breathed in like he was underwater for days. He opened his eyes, with much difficulty, and sees trees under the moonlight.
He climbed down the small mountain and looked back. It looked like a volcano with all the smoke coughing out of the cave up there. Was he in a volcano? Cezary does not know since he only saw one in a coloring book, but who knew there was a volcano in the middle of Kloden! It supposed to spill out lava and burn everything it touches. Cezary smiled at the thought. Cezary Regard, Man Who Walked Over Lava.
Yes, there is going to be a lot of things added in the Cezary Chronicles. He hopes Knute can stay up all night. On second thought, maybe tomorrow, right after Cezary can get his much needed sleep. Walking, or running, through lethal lava while through a horde of maggot men can put a man into the brink. Although there is one other person that needs an explanation.
Cezary found civilization in the form of a dirt road after some searching. A Militia jeep picked him up soon afterward. They are from the 2nd Militia Regiment. They were surprised to see him and almost thought he was Imperial special forces with all the soot on his body mistaken for camouflage. The misunderstanding was quickly settled after Cezary explained his situation.
It was 11:00 pm when he made it back to the base with the help of the jeep.
The entire platoon was surprised to see him alive, and in such a state! Most of them crowded over to question him, and all of them backed away due to the smell. All except Kevin, who broke down on his heel and crying on how he failed Cezary. Knute waved from afar, saying he will arrange a bath for the platoon's favorite sniper.
But before the bath, Welkin called.
There were only two of them in the dark office now. The only source of light is the table lamp on Welkin's desk. They have yet to find a replacement light bulb for the one that was shot up from the battle before. Welkin poured them both tea. If Lt. Gunther noticed the smell, he did not show it. After applying the sugar, and a sip, Welkin spoke.
"You gave us quite a scare, Lance Corporal."
Cezary sat erected, like a proper soldier. "Sir." He grabbed his mug and sipped. He grimaced as the taste of lava was still inside his mouth, or maybe he was too modest on the sugar.
"According to Pvt. Jung and Pvt. Abbott, they saw you drop down into the cabin floor. They tried to follow you, but they couldn't. There was no hole, no hatch, no nothing. It was just the ground. Abbott was digging with his shovel to get to you and Pvt. Jung ran for help. I sent Sgt. Potter as soon as the private told us the situation. This is when it gets dicey."
He sipped. "When they arrived at the cabin, it was on fire. It was blazing like it was soaked with Ragnoline. It was raining lightly by that time. Pvt. Abbott was outside when Largo arrived. He explained that the ground he was turning unusually hot. He continued digging until smoke came out of the ground. He got scared and ran away, and before we knew it, the house was burning. We thought he was being… you know."
Cezary kept a straight face. "Sir."
"Anyway, we listed you off as MIA. We have a war going on, and we can't just waste any more manpower looking for you. You can understand that, right?"
"Yes, sir."
"So… know anything about the volcano over there?" Welkin pointed through the window. There was a red glow in the distance.
"That's how I got out, sir."
"I figured that with the state you came. Thor, a volcano! In Kloden no less! I thought they only appear near the Crimson Veins, but with this discovery, it could shake the very natural balance of Europa itself." Welkin paused and coughed in embarrassment, forgetting that there is another person in the office. "At least it explains Pvt. Abbott's story. Report to my office tomorrow at 9'o clock. I would love discuss your findings over there. But for now, I believe the hour is very late."
"Sir!"
"Oh, and before I dismiss you, I, uh, must apologize with the goose chase earlier. Sgt. O'Hara confessed that she was the Slingray." Cezary's eyes widened, which caused Welkin the grin. "She was trying out a new military equipment called a ghillie suit." He struggled to pronounce that word. "Our correspondents with the Royal Edinburgh Forces donated a fresh batch to us and I say I'm impressed. Catherine can show you. When you wear it, you look like the nature itself. Vines, root, tree bark, everything! I take that Edinburgh is crawling with chameleons to give them such an inspiration."
Cezary struggled to imagine what a chameleon looks like, and quickly shook the thought when he imagined Slingray vines all over an entire country.
"She saw Pvt. Abbott running around during morning while she was trying out the suit. Kloden was the perfect place to test it. She tried to follow to see what's going on, but you know the rest. She was supposed to be travelling to the radio station by that time, which is why she did not come clean when she had the chance. Catherine thought we would get over it when she left. She didn't expect this. When she came back, I made her wear the suit in front of the platoon." He shrugged. "Mystery solved!"
"But what about the Slingray node at the forest?"
Welkin hummed. "Pvt. Abbott did report that. You must have set fire on a Ragnoline spill. It's the only explanation I could think of."
"Sir, are you sure about that?"
"What do you want with me, Regard? Odin damn it, you actually believed you killed the Slingray?" Cezary thought for a moment. "You know what, tomorrow. Tomorrow, let's set the record straight. Okay?"
Cezary sighed in defeat. At least he would listen. "Okay, sir. But before that, I would like to report on 3rd Platoon."
"What the Hel did they do now?"
"I want to report some casualties." He stood up to take out the dog tags. He looked down and a chill went down his spine. "Sir?"
"Yes?"
"About the Slingray… you might want to take a look at this."
Curious, Welkin stood up to walk towards his side of the table. He looked down, but the light was too dim. He grabbed the lamp and shined it near Cezary's ankle.
It was a burnt deflated hand.