Fundamentalism


"I may die today but I will not live in fear." Hamato Leonardo


The entrance to the tunnel was his only way out. He could see shadows gathering at the corners of his vision. The concrete was crumbling beneath his feet and he felt it lurch, threatening to break into nothingness. His options were simple, fling himself at the entrance of the tunnel and pray for a painless escape, or remain here, stand his ground and be thrown into the abyss below. At some point, the cracking land beneath his feet would fail him, and he would be left with nothing but the rushing face of death.

The hilts of his Katana felt warm beneath his hands the leather slickened with sweat, the stench of metal and death the only scent in his world. He gripped them tighter, knuckles white. How long had he been here? How long had he pushed back against the soldiers that threatened to swarm him? Dawn clawed its way out of the night, pushing past the darkness and painting the sky in a million colours.

He had no way of knowing how long the tunnel would stay in place. He didn't need to hold them off forever. He did not need to hold them off for more than a few minutes. He could do that. He had done it hundreds of times before. Hundreds of battles, hundreds of moments where life seemed to hang in the balance. This was nothing.

Fear licked at his heart, trying to burry its way into his psyche, pull him away from his objective. If he faltered, it was all over. If he hesitated, it was all over.

He heard the tunnel creak, its foundations devastated by the spoils of war, by the explosions that had rocked the battle to its very core. It was unstable. He could feel every shift. Every breath he took seemed to move the tunnel closer to destruction.

His eyes hardened, the resolve in his chest turning to iron even as his plastron heaved with the strain. Stamina. They were well trained for this. Sensei had trained them for this. His brothers were manning each port, Donnie taking them down from the inside. The one behind him would be useless without the others, the shockwave of destruction posed to rock the city would be averted. But Leonardo had no idea if it had been done.

The soldiers were still there, pushing forward, trying to break through his defences, an indicator that they had not been told to retreat, regroup. He had to guard the tunnel, bar their way, until the tunnel collapsed or the window of time passed.

His communicator lay shattered below, long destroyed, the pouches on his belt light with the absence of weapons, expended hours ago. Only his tanto weighed heavy in his belt, his katanas firmly in his hands.

They gathered at the edge of the tunnel, a hesitation that was shameful in a warrior, unsure whether or not they should continue forward and risk their lives. They were not committed. One man moved forward, only a step, and Leonardo shifted his weight. The tunnel shuddered beneath him, shifting precariously.

The enemy moved back.

Pathetic.

They had lost the unwavering attachment to the set of irreducible beliefs their clan possessed. The core of a ninja who joined a cause willingly. Their dedication was shallow, born out of fear.

The light touched the tunnel, filtering through and lighting the ground around them. The light glinted off his blades, a sense of urgency rippling through the men he faced. They were running out of time. Still, no one charged.

As the first shuriken shot past his head, Leonardo was left again with a choice. Let himself be hit, sparing himself the painful drop, and yielding to the Foot Clan. Or throw himself out of the way, even the slightest movement likely to send him plummeting down, not a foothold in sight. The tunnel would be destroyed, the way barred. The city spared, his family safe.

Leo moved, dodging the barrage of shuriken that threatened to slice his skin. At the last minute, he twisted in the air, catching one mid-strike and flinging it back. A ripple of satisfaction moved through him as it struck a soldier between the eyes.

Then he landed. And as suddenly as it had all started, it ended. Almost without warning, the tunnel collapsed upon itself, the roof caving in in a heaving mass of concrete, which threw him into the darkness. The air was stolen from his lungs as debris crashed into his plastron with all the force of the condemned.

His head slammed into the stone, skull hitting the concrete with a crack. Darkness swallowed him whole.

His bandana was ripped from him.

And Leonardo fell.