"Are you sure about this?" whispered Steven as they hid behind the trees surrounding the house they were targeting. Supposedly, Darius' uncle should have left a stash of military-grade weaponry somewhere in the house, and the two intended to find it.
Naturally, it wasn't that easy.
The house was utterly crawling with looters who had apparently caught wind of the hidden stash and were frisking the house. It was clearly not just some ragtag bunch of misfits; these were trained men. Darius could tell simply from the way the ones outside were holding their guns (assault rifles, surprisingly). But if Darius' memories served him well enough, they'd never find it.
After all, what kind of person would think to look inside the fireplace, of all places?
"We're already here," murmured Darius. "We're not stopping."
"But how are we going to break through all of these people?"
"Ever heard of frag grenades?"
Steven blanched. "You can't possibly…"
Darius looked towards the house with a look of grim anticipation. He'd pulled a hand grenade from the warehouse he had assaulted, and now planned to put it to use. He pulled the pin from the grenade and started the countdown in his mind.
Five…
No one had noticed him in the half-light under the ashen clouds. A guard passed by them, completely failing to see them through the dense bush.
Four…
A small green light appeared in one of the house's shadows, flitting along the wall before moving into a ray of light and causing Darius to lose it.
Three…
Sniper, Darius realized as the green light appeared once again on one man's forehead, unnoticed by anyone else. Any second now…
Two…
The light focused and grew slightly, staying stock-still as it did. Darius felt his fingers twitch…
Now!
Darius sprung up and flung the grenade. A perfect throw, it sailed through a window and landed as its timer ran out, filling several rooms with a burst of flame and running cracks along the wall. At that same instant, the green light disappeared as its target's head exploded, followed by the distinct crack of a sniper rifle. Darius and Steven drew their weapons as one and ran in opposite directions as a bullet tore into the ground where they were standing just a moment previously. Darius called out a quick order to Steven. "Stall those looters, Steven! I'll get the sniper."
Darius heard another crack, and another cry from behind him. Ignoring it, he kept running. Almost every two seconds, another shot would fire, though not all were accurate. Darius hid behind a tree and closed his eyes, trying to zoom in on the sniper's position. Another gunshot from that same rifle, and another, and another. They were all coming from…
Directly above him?
A twig fell, bouncing off his shoulder and prompting him to look up. Several leaves fluttered down as he identified the figure above him, who looked down at him. Darius watched the sniper shoulder the large rifle and strap it to its back effortlessly, then began to run, while still in the treetops. A blue cloak trailed the sniper, the long barrel of the sniper rifle jutting out prominently over it.
"What the hell?" exclaimed Darius as he holstered his revolver and raised a set of twin daggers. He couldn't let the sniper get distance between them…
Driving the knives into the aged bark of the tree, Darius climbed to a low, thick branch. Crouching down to maintain his balance, he steadied himself –
And winced as a bullet slammed into the bark less than an inch from his face.
'Get back here," he growled. Picking up speed carefully, Darius leapt from branch to branch deftly, seizing each roughly stable one as it passed. The figure was still sprinting far more gracefully, bounding from tree to tree as if he weighed no more than a feather. "I said, get back here!"
Darius finally found himself within his opponent's range. He threw all caution to the winds and leapt, just as the sniper did the exact same.
CRASH!
Both sides met in mid-air, tumbling head over heels as they hit the ground. Darius gritted his teeth as he slammed roughly into a tree, thankfully stopping him from breaking something important; a bruised body was a fair price for no broken bones. His opponent could not say the same. Instead, the figure whirled, a blue coat trailing its movement. Hitting the ground easily, the sniper let his fall turn rapidly into a roll, which in turn let the sniper pull himself into what looked like a spinning handstand. Darius watched the incredible feat of acrobatics, then realized that there was a large black figure mixed in with the blue.
The sniper rifle came up as the hooded sniper arrested his spin and fired.
Darius threw himself into a forwards somersault, just barely dodging the bullet as it singed his hair, screaming overhead as he switched from rolling to running in less than a second –
His opponent drew his own dagger and raised it to block Darius' otherwise-fatal slice. Except it was less of a knife, and much more of a wickedly sharp machete, almost three foot long. It qualified more of a short sword than a long dagger. It seemed the sniper only had one, however, because he was forced to sidestep Darius' assault with his second knife. Flipping his daggers into a backhand grip, Darius charged again and feinted for the sniper's leg, then abruptly cutting off to attempt beheading the sniper.
"Shit!" Darius whipped his head backwards to avoid the machete, which stabbed forward to tear off his head. Unlike his twin daggers, the machete was likely wide enough to decapitate him with one stroke. Leaping backwards, Darius brought himself out of the machete's effective range, challenging his opponent to come closer.
"…"
"…"
"…"
"…"
"…"
Tumbleweed rolled past.
"Uh, are you going to attack me, or…?" Darius let the question fall. "Ah, fuck it."
He stowed a dagger away, drawing his trusty Colt Anaconda revolver. With it in hand, he barrelled back into the fray. The machete swung in from his right to cleave him in half, and was swiftly blocked by Darius' knife, now in his less-favoured right hand. To his surprise, as he brought the gun to bear, the sniper twisted, raking the machete along the dagger's jagged edge and twirling the machete expertly. Caught between having his wrist sprained and dropping the dagger, he went for the latter.
The machete reached back and plunged down for a killing blow –
Darius shot the machete, the supersonic bullet knocking his opponent off balance. Seizing his chance, Darius ducked and rolled behind the sniper and, before he knew what was happening, Darius lunged for his exposed back. Grabbing the sniper by the neck, Darius spun, throwing his weight into tossing the surprisingly light sniper to the ground. To his surprise, a hand grabbed him by the collar, pulling him down with the man he'd tossed. Both fell to the ground, rolling to try and gain the upper hand. Darius delivered a sucker punch to his opponent, causing him to retch and cough. Once again using his weight to his advantage, he raised the sniper in his right hand and slammed the sniper into the nearest tree, the shock finally jolting the machete from his hand. Breathing heavily, Darius reached up to tear off his opponent's hood…
An orange-haired girl slightly younger than he was glared back at him defiantly, breathing just as heavily.
Darius twitched, the only sign of his surprise. Of all people, he was trying to gut a girl? Quickly regaining focus, he pulled out his gun and pointed it into the girl's face. "I should just kill you right now and leave the body to the wolves," he said, finger itching to pull the trigger. "But I've got bigger fish to fry. Keep out of my way, and don't bother following me, because I will kill you."
Darius looked into her glittering green eyes. "I'm also not one to kill a girl so readily." Once again grabbing her by the collar (much more gently, the girl noticed), he threw her aside and continued on his way. "Scram."
The girl, feeling somewhat shocked and lost, muttered despondently, "But… you attacked me first." Then she stomped a fuming foot on the ground. "Not fair!"
Taking a moment to calm her breathing, she sheathed her machete at her left hip and strapped the sniper rifle to her back, putting her hood up once again. Just before she left, she took another look at the retreating figure of Darius Loyhrs.
Alexa Cagnes smiled slightly. "Well, I shouldn't be getting steamed up. We'll be meeting again, that's for sure."
XXX
Kiegnaster looked uneasily at the four empty wine bottles that lay broken around the Seventh General's feet. He knew that the more bottles he saw, the more agitated the General was, and if they were broken, then it meant some horrible had transpired.
He winced and clapped a hand to his side silently. True to his word, the General had purged the negative effects of the Erensilos, though the madness was left for Kiegnaster to fight. There was nothing that could be done. Even so, Kiegnaster was grateful – the General rarely did anything like that, if ever. Also, some of his organs would bubble and writhe in the most painful way possible, but such was a small side effect.
"Sir," Kiegnaster tried. "What has happened?"
The powerful General shifted, as if coming out of a stupor. "Hmm?"
"Sir… what happened?"
"He happened," the General spat. "I thought we could bargain, but no… I should have expected him to do this…"
"Sir, you don't mean… he escaped?" Kiegnaster felt a rush of fear.
"Yes," the General frowned. "It seems our greatest project has backfired. Of course, I should have known my power was not enough to restrain such a force; you are not to blame."
Kiegnaster relaxed. The General was just, but when he found you guilty, the punishments were horrifying. "Then who…?"
"I am to blame," the General growled. "I underestimated him. And he holds Agony, too… he must be stopped. That might is too great for even me to contain."
"Sir, is Dominus really…?"
"It is," he confirmed. He raised his glass of wine to his lips and set it down again afterwards. The remaining alcoholic drink floated out of the glass, forming a ball. "Your theories were right; it seems that Dominus must be united. However, its original form was shattered." The ball broke into three pieces, forming their own small orbs, glistening in the half-light. "If we wish for their power, we must unite them."
"But sir, is that not impossible?"
"That is where you are wrong." The General's reply was curt and clipped as the wine returned to its glass, almost meekly. "There is a way to unite them; bring the bearers together. All three must be in unison to unleash its power. However, I do not believe it likely that they will comply. We must use the second option."
Kiegnaster waited on tenterhooks as the General drank the last of his wine, tipping the final drop into his mouth. He tossed it aside carelessly. Just before it hit the wall, it stopped in mid-air and floated to tap gently upon the floor. Just visible in the abyssal darkness of the General's chambers, a smile danced on his lips as he spoke.
"Kill them."
XXX
"Talk, damn you!" Darius tightened his grip on the unlucky man's neck. When he had returned, he had successfully stormed the small adobe, with Steven's assistance. Thankfully, Steven had returned with a still-conscious man in tow, who had apparently been trying to escape. And now, here they were, trying to squeeze information out of him.
Darius glanced down at the man's beige jacket. He'd seen that somewhere before…
His eye locked onto the pentagram stitched over his heart.
"Who sent you?" growled Darius, loosening his grip just enough to allow the man to talk. Fixing him with a disdainful eye, he spat at him. Darius wiped away the spit from his cheek irritably. He could feel the muscles around his left eye twitching – a tic that had plagued him for years. The man made to spit again –
"Oof!" Darius slammed him against the wall, hearing an unpleasant crack from his captive's head. He went limp, and Darius shook his head in resignation. Reaching down, he cut the five-pointed star from the unconscious man's jacket, and turned to leave.
"Dammit," he muttered. Looking around, he saw Steven. "Come on, we need those supplies. Let's get moving."
"Gotcha," he confirmed.
They turned to leave, but as they did, something caught Darius' attention on his peripheral. The unconscious looter wasn't unconscious at all. The concealed pistol was already aimed at him, finger tightening on the trigger –
BANG!
The man's head exploded before either Darius or Steven could react. Steven sprang back from the decapitated corpse, but Darius simply looked to the treetops. Two hundred feet away, he saw a faint blue figure sling a sniper rifle over their back and began to walk away. He let out what might have been a half-laugh and walked into the house, hauling a gagging Steven with him.
