Opening song: The walking dead of the Dropkick Murphy's.
I got the time to type before I had to deliver him, so I decided to write on the Dark Past Arc. This time, we're going to look in a traumatic event of Kashal. Because I let him have his family, I decided to do something with the Dividing.
For those who don't know what that is, check out the first chapters in the summer published.
There is another thing, I got this chapter and one other on the computer. So I'll get something else and work in the rewrite. But hey, this was good enough for me so I put it on the site.
This will just be two chapters and maybe a third if I can find the time to write it over. After and between that, I'll first work on the Graduated Student and the Irish street punk, because that will be my summer project.
I wanted to give it a twist, but due to reasons I couldn't write on. I also did my driver exam for the first time.
One fucking mistake, one too much, and I was shitted. One too much and I failed. Well, next Thursday. I got my second try.
Hopefully, I'll pass then. But the idea of week writing now my old man is away, well. That will be for another time. Sorry.
This is going to be one huge flashback unlike what I did with Raton and Charlotte. I hope you don't mind. Let's get on the story.
There is something I can better tell you guys, this story is my best read story. But I'm getting a second one. The difference is just 140 views with Mercenary of no Kingdom. Let's just say I'm not working on that story till later. I have a few more things to finish.
Like I said yesterday on another story. I'll do a second chapter I already wrote out and I'll do a last huge one in July. The reason why I would do that is because it's been a year since I started on this fic.
It's not what I hoped for. But I'm glad with the support, reviews, followers, favorites and reads. Thansk guys.
After those two, I'm done till the rewrite.
Late wounds, hurt hands, bloodied fists.
The storm was growing outside, but it seemed like a summer storm. While Kashal was used to these, he didn't like it. Why, why of all days did the storm have break loose on this day? Every day would have been fine, but not the first of June. Kashal heard the thunder ramming. The guy painfully closed his eyes and covered his ears.
He didn't want to hear it. HE DID NOT WANT IT. Still, the thunder crashed even louder. Cursing and shaking, Kashal hoped he would get back asleep, but it was in vain. His thoughts went back to that time. The time that became his weakness. He couldn't help, but to think back and the thunder was slowly replaced by artillery. Lightning became shots. His bedroom began to deform and it was like he was back
Kashal tried to resist, but how more he did, how faster his bedroom became that place. He wasn't sitting, but standing. His closets, his table, his desk, the charism, it slowly faded away, replaced by sand and foxholes. It was like WW1, but way worse. The Dividing. The first Great War Belgium was in since WW2. The first time Infinite Stratos were used to fight in a war. The first time they get their butts kicked. The first time that Belgium came out as winners.
The first time Hackers were public.
They won, but at a price. Like it always was at war.
Kashal pressed himself to the ground, covering his ears. He would suspect Infinite Stratos pilots to face his unit. They would have to fight. He didn't expect that artillery would rip them apart. He cursed on the events. He looked around, still artillery was raining down. The young boy was deadly afraid. Every one of his group was gone.
Tore apart by munition, stabbed by swords, shot, electrocuted. All died in a horrible way. Far too young to die in such a way. From the seventy friends, young fighters that went to the Front Line, he was the only breathing enough. How? How could this happen?
Why did a force like this one tear these lands apart? It belonged to them. The Runners. His cause. Still, the young guy saw everything playing back all his friends who were part of his old fighting group. 3 years. 3 years of stories. Of stupid things. Of nice things. Kashal tears were growing. For what reason did pilots killed boys of thirteen years old? This was unforgivable. They had to pay. Every last one of them he would find would be killed by him. He would rip their spine out, he would do things he never considered before.
Kashal finally heard the artillery stopping and got out his cover. He was horrified, shocked and disgusted by what he saw. Bodies were torn apart, head were lying apart from the bodies. Kashal saw a body falling down right on him. He couldn't hold his voice as he felt blood coming down on his shoulders, down in his pants. Kashal took the body of his shoulders and saw that it was the remainings of what once was his roommate Pieter. The face of the young boy was torn apart and the chest was open with his organs destroyed. Kashal pushed him off and crawled on. He needed to get out, he needed to find his friends.
Raton was stationed approximately thirteen kilometers away with a unit. Hackers would never leave comrades behind. Neither it was to save them or to bury. Kashal had to come to them and they would find him.
Kashal crawled further and was thinking to stay calm. "Count to four. Inhale. Count to four. Exhale." Kashal reminded himself of those words. A man named Jonas Blazkowicz. His grandfather was a soldier who slaughtered Nazi's in WW2. Kashal heard the stories. Jonas? How would that guy be? It showed not too promising. Kashal saw three pilots coming down. If he wasn't afraid, he was afraid now. Kashal needed to run before they noticed hm.
Which was useless, because they found him basically breathing. Fire was splitting the ground. It was perfect to see that boy run. It was the vision of what it should be. The young, muddied, low lives of the hackers was running for his life for the great, powerful beauties of the Infinite Stratos. They could be better than him, but it was clear they couldn't hit him. It would take a lot more to kill him.
Kashal smiled as he evaded the bullets like a dancer. The three pilots were trying out get him, but failed as Kashal got in another part of the trenches. He went underground in the shelters. Protected by the darkness, the pilots didn't know where they should hit. Kashal made his way out in the other part of the dungeon and walked off. Crawling at the end of the tunnel, he found a way out. When he looked up, he tried to curse as many time he could to shit out whatever God was there to give those pilots his location. He looked up and saw them grinning at him.
"Well, it looks like we found you, little rat." One of the pilots spat in English, but with a horrible accent. Kashal closed his eyes and when he opened them, light was filling them. In an extreme speed, he punched the middle pilot in the gut, causing her to clench down. After standing up her, he grabbed the throat of the right one. With a quick squeeze, he punched her down. The left fist blocked an attack and he proceeded to punch in her in the head using a backhand.
After that, he ran off. While it might be seen as stupid, a mere thirteen year old hacker could take down several pilots by himself using only his fists. While that might be normally be the case, Kashal used his Nature stemming back from choosing his powers. If you can move faster not using a weapon, than using your remaining Nanites to move faster, why would you stop?
That's Kashal's Nature. Lightening fists. Moving at such a speed that it was invisible to the human eye. It was used in the German Army, but Kashal had the advantage even over one of those pilots. He, as only one, could see and coordinate his actions, so he could stop and block their attacks. After they were down, he started to run.
Making sure they wouldn't track him down, the boy sent a message to the hackers. There was a rescue squad on the way, but Kashal couldn't afford himself on staying at one place with three bloodthirsty pilots on his tail.
He head to move and hope that his friends could find him faster than the pilots would. But wait, why should he hide? It was a dangerous thing and it seemed even for him suicide to take three pilots on his own, but Kashal had no other option. Memories of his friend came in his head. He owned them the death of the whores who killed some of his oldest and best friends.
He moved from his location and crept around. Pilots might be good in stand-up fights, but this wasn't a fight of strength, but even so, the pilots were useless in non-traditional warfare, but not like the hackers. They were trained in this like maniacs.
Hackers were known to be capable of holding positions for hours with the popper defenses. Hit and run was also one of their best moves, but they were the best in guerrilla warfare. That's why most weapons were made like that. Reliable, cheap and trustworthy. Kashal had an idea on how to kill the pilots and making it home. He looked around for supplies and found some armor, a bunch of clothes and something to eat. After a short meal, he crept out. Those pilots were responsible for killing quite an amount of friends of him and they would pay for that.
Looking around , he moved quickly and stealthy. This was so not his thing, but staying low to ground meant staying alive. He could get somewhere quickly without the pilots following him. Finally, he found something after two hours of searching. He leapt back behind a wall in the trench to see the pilots. "We've lost the damn brat. It is better if we split up?" Kashal was guessing their supposed leader was telling that. "Is that okay? I mean. We've already killed so many. What matters?"
The pilots sentence was cut off by a slap. "Don't be stupid. We need to kill them all. If we do, we'll get a better reward? Besides, who said we'll kill him? Our mistress will be pleased if we bring them a toy." Kashal face turned grim. They wanted to capture him and use him. Take what he had of innocence. Never was he so angry. So determined to kill.
When he could find the pilots, he would kill them in a way most gruesome. Kashal saw the group disbanding. He smiled knowing he would take them down one by one. Kashal had the idea it was wrong to kill, but suddenly, the horrors, the screams, the pilots who came back. It was casted out. He would make them pay for everything they do to him. Kashal saw a pilot coming his way. He waited until she was far enough. There were more advantages hackers had. One of them being mobile.
He quickly leapt out of his shadow, going behind her and choking her. Kashal cursed this. Making stealthy kills were Izolf and Thazalof job, not his. Still, he knew this was the only way for him to live. In a fight, he could have won. If it was one on one. If the bitch didn't have friends around. He went on with choking until the Infinite Stratos fell down.
With a knife, he got when he was scavenging, he cut the throat open. While it was nothing more than safety measures, the way he cut her bloodline open would be fatal and it would cause her to drown in her own blood. It was clean, but very cruel way to die.
The reason Kashal used it was, because only persons used to death knew it was a gruesome way to kill someone. After Kashal was done, he did wat he was taught to mod. Respect the dead you made and give them kindness.
He closed the eyes of the pilots laid her arms over her chest, made a cross and said a quick praying. After that, he left. While he could use the knife, his fists were the weapons he fought Infinite Stratos with and he knew the hackers would come for him.
If Kashal ever wanted to have children, he needed to do one thing. The fighter had to the stealthy way. It wasn't his way, not his preference off fighting. It wasn't like Kashal found it wrong to kill stealthy, but he wasn't made for that. In his gang, fighting was his job. Also fists weren't made for getting a quick kill. They were used to fight fair. May the best one win.
Kashal was out of options. He needed to win if he wanted to live. And he had to win the dirty way. 'Fight however you see fit. He guessed that's what they meant with that.' Okay, it was one pilot down. He had two to go and while it might seem impossible, it wasn't. So Kashal had a big chance of surviving. After the pilots unit was back to a core, his fist went up, pumping Nanites in it and he rammed to core to pieces.
Millions of whatever currency to develop the greatest weapon made by top engineers used by the elite. Destroyed in mere seconds by a male born in the lowest pits of Hell. Kashal wouldn't spare the cores. His faction of hackers found no use for them. And despite pilots were often captured and treated with the Rules of Genève as the hackers took that as example for treating prisoners and not the international gender rules, nobody asked questions if pilots died on the battlefield. It was like his mentor Sander told him.
"It's not because we could spare them, we have an obligation to do. Only when you deem it necessary or good, you'd spare their lives." Kashal saw no reason to keep them alive as they didn't do that with his friends. There was more hate, anger and frustration than you normally would expect in this thirteen year old guy.
Years of abuse by girls were not boiling up and they have reached breaking point. It would come out and it would leave be highly unpleasant. For one time, he feared that the pilot would send out an emergency signal to the other ones. Luckily, he didn't hear them coming back. Kashal pulled up his hoodie, went low to the ground and began to look for them. Where would he need to look? Well, good that he had three years of survival training and they were paying off. They did more than once and with some nice abilities.
One of them being able to track a prey. He smiled. Despite all their great power, Infinite Stratos were sucking for large scale battles like these. A battle like one just got off the plains wasn't like a fight the pilots so excelled at. In a fight, it was easy to have the upper hand for those blasted machines. Kashal's ideas became much darker. If you'd drop a group of set-to-be pilots of thirteen, Kashal and his group would have a lot of fun. He had a few advantages, like the environment. Pilots couldn't control it.
Runners worked with it. They found it to use as ally in a fight, to turn the effects. Another one was surprise attacks. They could seal of their presence. Despite preferring a good beat down, Kashal had no chance for that. He worked best under Raton's suppressive fire and with Izolf and Tizof watching his back. He learned to be quiet and to sneak, so Thazalof and Izolf got their chances of killing in silence. But now, Kashal had to take that as weakest point and use that to win. After sneaking around for what seemed like an hour, he found a helmet moving, so he began to crawl. Luckily that the place was a mess, so he could hide himself. Kashal was close and the pilot was standing still. "What is?" He heard.
If he didn't do it now, it would be never. It was 100 meters, so he had a chance. He closed his eyes and forced his Nature to come out. At inhuman speed, he ran to the still unexpected pilot. 100 meters were closed in, it took mere two seconds. The pilot had no idea what she saw. A Demon or a man?
Whatever it was, it took her down. With one punch, he destroyed her Absolute Defense. He couldn't be faster, but the pilot couldn't react at the shock. How? How is this possible? How did such a lowlife, such scum, such ... a man have the ability to get her down? How dared that man to rise against her? Raised his fist? Fought back to woman?
She would never get the answer and Kashal didn't care. There as a reason he did this. Women were maybe meant to fight, having wars and battles were things men did way before them. After the Infinite Stratos were introduced, there was nothing left of it. A woman whose sanity was questionable, whose world just got turned upside down by a man. Kashal didn't hesitate and began to strangle the pilot. With his other hand, he muffled the voice. He couldn't have her shouting. He saw her getting to her gun. Kashal instincts took over. He kicked on the hand, forcing her to drop the gun, drew is knife and nearly decapitated the head.
Kashal was smiling. He wasn't proud of the fact that he killing pilots and destroyed billions of currency. Well, maybe a bit. He was rather glad that his friends were avenged. "One more." He muttered under his breath. He inhaled and exhaled. After the last one, he could find a safe location to wait. "It seems like you're an incredibly annoying brat." Before Kashal could turn around, a shot went off.
His instincts were still good and got out the bullets way. Unfortunately, he lost his knife and fell in the mud. He crawled back and saw the pilot standing and smiling at him. "Well, it seems like you're the one who killed the other two pilots. You have been one bad kid." Kashal gurgled and spit on the ground. Blood and saliva were mixed in. "Fuck you." Kashal said. He whipped some dirt of his face and cracked his knuckles. 'I can't use my Nature with the risk of collapsing. But the good thing is that there is only one of us with my guys on the way.'
The pilot took, out a large sword. "Well, just surrender. There are no odds you'll win this fight and I rather not kill a kid. If you surrender, I'll take you as my pet." Kashal made a toothy grin. "Oh, yeah? I'm part of the best juvenile gang. I don't think you're the one who has no idea to who she's talking." Kashal fists began to lighten up and made fighting stance. The two flung at each other.
The young hacker had more often to duck and avoid the attacks. He also had to block those attacks, but saw one opening. Kashal went back up, rammed at the sword with his feet and punched with is two fists at his opponent. With the sheer power, he flung her off and she landed somewhere further. He got right after her. She couldn't believe the speed he used.
She got down and Kashal was stopped by her. She got up and both were struggling. For them, it was clear whoever got the upper hand, would live to see another day. The plot eyes got a menacing glance and rolled him over. A rock hit his head and it suffocated his senses. The pilot made a sword at and lifted it at his head. "You will pay for what you have done." She stabbed him. Kashal screamed like a child.
She stabbed him in the legs, in his arm, in his body. Oh, this hurt. This hurt, this hurt. He never felt such an exaggerating pain. Before he could slip in unconscious. A shot went off. From a rifle he heard so many times. Clearly, it was for the pilot. Kashal felt warm blood coming down. He saw the shoulder tread of. A giant claw got at the woman and shred her to pieces.
He smiled; his friends found him. Just in time. He felt two hackers healing him, but he drifted into a coma. "Holy fuck."*
"He was lucky."
"Look at tho."
"Was he?"
"You gotta."
Kashal heard pieces of what was said. But he smiled. He would live. And he had avenged his friends. 'Guess I won't join you guys now.'
But every year, he would be reminded of their deaths.