Author's Notes:

There are surprising coincidences found in the backstory of FC4 which are related closely with Hindu Mythology and after reading through some tales and epics, it's endless! Research on it does enlighten many grey areas in the meanings behind some names found in Kyrat.

i.e. One of the prayer grounds is called Yakshini's Pleasure.

Yakshini doesn't refer to a person but a class of being that co-existed with humanity in the Hindu world. Devas, Asuras, Rakshasas, Yakshas, Vanaras and Humans. The feminine equivalent of Yaksha. Their sole purpose is as caretakers of valuable artifacts be it left by the Devas or similar beings. More akin to the Arhats in Buddhism or Saints in Christianity.

You might be wondering why I brought this up. Well, incorporating Mythology into this story was inevitable when a plot revolves around a time leaping artifact. (I'm not releasing any spoilers to the plot or anything, a heads up because from previous experience with some of the reviewers.)


The moment his blade was deflected Darshan jumped back and went into full guard. Because the entire time he barely felt the presence of that foreigner, but there was also a familiar stench to him that Darshan instantly recognised.

Brody cocked his head and twirled his machete playfully whilst still wearing his mad smile. "Hurgh! Been a while since I've played." Brody stretched his body.

"How bout you play with me, bud?" Brody didn't wait for Darshan to answer as he dived straight for him with his machete and his movements were not at all slow. Slashing at him like he held nothing back Darshan no longer dodged slightly but incorporated parrying to his defence as the opponent before him was clearly different from before.

(Clang) (Clang) (Clang)

His slashes were deceivingly soft but they were all the more calculative as they swung

Vasu watched in disbelieve as the foreigner's style of fighting completely morphed. His previously reckless swings were traded-in for similarly bold strikes but with experience and risk involves. It said that this person was a gambler of high stakes, even if the stakes were his life he'd gladly wager it. This was a completely different personality from the quiet, young but prideful fellow from before. There was a glint in his eyes that was present, something that predators had when looking at a prey. If only he knew how frightful that beast in front of him truly was, Vasu got to his feet to join in and add pressure on Darshan.

Sparks cascaded from the contact of the blades to show the amount of force was applied in each swing. Darshan's gaze never left Brody, while he monitored the knife that was twirling in Brody's he was observing for something else on Brody. Then his gaze landed on the tattoo running the entire left forearm of his. His eyes deepened upon the intricate lines that were hidden behind the design of that showy tattoo.

"Hey! Eyes up here, buddy!" Brody was not so dense that he could not understand what Darshan was doing. He kicked off the dirt floor and performed a full body spin slash. Darshan stepped back to avoid the closing blade that he chose not to block. "Tsk!"

Brody expresses his displeasure at the miss but was soon smiling again, when player-two joined in the fight against the boss character.

Vasu spared no quarter as he attempted to lock Darshan from one end and allow Brody to deliver a blow to his unguarded areas. Darshan was no fool to his attempts and retreated to an narrow space with poorer manuever room.

Darshan was now at the steps where they had been when they first encountered him again, while the two of them were at the bottom.

Taking the moment of rest, Darshan reached into his bag and retrieved what appeared to be a wooden short sword no different to the one he was currently holding save for the material used to build it. On it were strange runic symbols, Vasu recognized some characters as Sanskrit but majority seemed to comprise of more ancient characters that were no longer catalogued in modern dictionaries.

"That's it? That's your brilliant plan, a wooden stick?" Vasu mocked Darshan for the desperate move he adopted.

This action almost took Vasu and Brody by surprise but then Brody started to grip his chest as he felt a burning sensation in his chest. To him, the affect of the wooden sword particularly on him was the greatest, Brody recognised that oppressive sensation to be originating from that sword.

Brody brushed the nauseating feeling he was having with a mad smile.

"This isn't for you." Darshan kept his sentence neat and simple as he turned to Brody and pointed it at him.

"For me? Well I guess no one's too old for Christmas!" Brody said laughing it off, but it didn't erase his caution of the sword. For whatever it was, it risked compromising the hex formation that Citra crafted onto Jason Brody to be the host's "second chance" in life.

"Enough said! You have two to worry about, you're finished, Darshan!" Vasu took the initiative and leeped forward with kukri in hand, Darshan deflected the swing and pushed Vasu aside for the next opponent that came towards him brandishing the machete.

(Clang) The machete was blocked by the same shortsword. As that happened, Darshan's wooden sword swept under Brody's hands at his torso. He stepped back quickly as he felt the presence of an object with an ability to kill pass him.

Brody stood back as the wooden sword contacted his ribs and brushed along it. Safe! Or so he thought.

"Is that the best you've got? I dunno what runni- Urgh!..." Brody taunted him halfway before collapsing to his knees.

To Vasu, it was a shock to see a blunt wooden sword have that affect from slashing. But to Brody, the wooden blade merely grazed some skin off his side, unfortunately that was only the physical aspect of it. It wasn't so much the physical damage that was inflicted, that was trivial. But when the wooden sword passed him, he could feel it a massive tear through the intricate formations that binded the soul to Brody's body, threatening to undo what Brody had waited patiently for almost two years, quietly deceiving the fool into taking actions in their interest.

The sight was confusing to Vasu. Just what in the world was that wooden blade?

"The moment you possessed that body, you already lost." Darshan's words had a chilling affect on Brody, who now understood the seriousness of the situation. Darshan was aware that this body wasn't his. Whatever it was, that man he made an enemy out of…..

"(Pant) Hahahaha… Are you some sort of exorcist?"

"It doesn't matter what I am, it makes no difference, be you the one in control or not. Both of you are both dead men." Darshan expressed he cared little for the original body's owner.

It was at this moment that the sound of rotorblades chopping the air could be heard coming towards them. Vasu and Brody knew what it meant.

The Army had arrived.

They had spent a considerable amount of time fighting and loitering around in the stronghold that it gave the Royal army who's guard was completely off to muster and dispatch to the most pressing of areas. It was New Year and this was behind the lines where all the known entry points to the North were heavily guarded. How they got in and in such numbers to storm Rajgad Gulag was beyond them. Darshan had been alerted to the attack way before the Royal Army and so was naturally there before them.

"That can't be good."

Darshan wasn't incline to give them breathing space and continued his assault upon them. Brody paid extra attention to the wooden sword.

"You really are a monster!" Vasu shouted at him as he fought back, forgetting about his sudden wish to die a while ago. Darshan laughed at the hypocrisy of his actions, so drawn by moments that easily shifted his heart. That was the inherent flaw of Vasu's, but then again. It was that flaw that Darshan had manipulated sixteen years ago, to cause the Devas to get caught and incarcerated.

But Brody was a different story, there was no reading that fellow. His actions were as crazy as they had intelligence behind them. Even if he didn't possess the same royal martial art as Darshan or the Devas he was still a fighter of almost similar par.

Vasu gave a glance to Brody who instantly understood his meaning and dashed to attack simultaneously from the front and back of Darshan.

(Clang) A unified sound of blades rung as Darshan blocked both and spun to do a roundhouse kick to Brody's face. While it was too quick to see, Brody's reaction was different from before and while he wasn't quick enough to dodge it if he saw the kick, he moved away naturally before the kick took place.

-Ha!- He laughed too soon as he realized it was a feint to make him drop his guard else where as a fist did an uppercut to his jaw sending him flying backwards.

"Young one!"

Brody landed on his back coughing.

"(Cough) You old fuck!" Brody cursed as he recovered but didn't anticipate that Darshan would attack him when he was down. The wooden sword came swinging his way and now with truly no time or area to dodge it. Brody realized his short existence was about to end after having only gaining control for such a short time span.

But instead of regretting, Brody smiled from his checks end to end. There was nothing more satisfying than basking in the glory of a fight that challenged ones limits. To go against a superior opponent and perhaps triumph over him. It was the trait bore by all the true Rakyat.

The desire to slay god.

(Clang)

But today wasn't the day he died.

Vasu stood in the way between him and that oppressive Darshan, much to Brody's surprise. He merely thought he was using him to get a whack at Darshan, but he was wrong in that analysis. Either way, he was grateful to him for saving his arse from one problem but that still left the impending crisis of the what appeared to be the Royal Guards of Yuma's forces arriving by Helicopter and armed convoy.

The helicopters loomed overhead as the troops disembarked from their vehicles and rappelled the ropes. Surrounding them and forming a perimeter.

*This is Lieutenant Ramdan Sandhar. Major Sen, give yourself up and come quietly. This is your final warning.* Announced over the PA on one of the heliocopters.

Brody, who was in pain was the first to take initiative. He was no fool to the situation and chose the more peaceful of the approaches that involved preserving their lives. "Hahahaha-..(Cough)(Cough).. The irony…" His physical injuries were not as bad as his spirit that was greviously injured by the wooden sword. Vasu who had no idea of Brody's condition thought that he was succumbing to a previous injury instead.

-I'm to be caught again?! Is there no god watching over me?-

Vasu looked upon the knife that was in hand and harboured thoughts of commiting suicide or perhaps continue and hopeless struggle. Maybe then, he could relieve his old man of some grief he'd caused him all these years.

The troops sprinted towards their location to apprehend them, but just as they were doing so-

(BANG) One of the convoy technicals exploded, a trail of smoke that led back from the burning wretch to the top of the cliff.

Muzzle flashes blinked in the forest on top.

"Help?" Vasu recognized their movements, it was Golden Path manuevers. The Old Guard warriors dove down the mountain firing as they went. A fierce skirmish entered between them and the Royal Guard soldiers. Elite versus Elite, naturally an aggressive competition for power over the other began to see who was the strongest in Kyrat. The Old Guard fighters neared Vasu and Brody.

"Good to see you again, brother! Lord Bhaskar has informed us of your predicament." An officer came to brief him while the others were fiercely fighting.

"And Mohan?" Vasu's first question was of course regarding the wellbeing of his brother.

"He's come all this way just for the four of you. Naturally, it is our duty to follow him. Lord Bhaskar and your brothers are safely heading back to the valley."

"I see, then where is he now?"

"He has a plan to slow them down as we escape."

"I want in." Vasu volunteered himself immediately.

"I'm afraid that's not possible, brother Mohan did anticipate you'd say that. His orders for you were to withdraw, that's if you still heed his commands was what he told me to tell you."

Vasu longed to look at his brother's face but if it was a matter of command, he chose to accept his orders. He was still a follower of the Golden Path. Vasu turned to the seemingly injured Brody and crouched beside him.

"Friend. Will you come with us? I do not know what your prior relation with our cause was but I can assure you that if you come with me, I will make sure the unruly ones will get what they deserve. If they will not listen to the words of a Deva, then they are truly lost."

Brody raised an eyebrow to Vasu who was suddenly being very nice to him for some personal selfish reason he didn't know of.

"Humph! Sure, anywhere's better than here."

There was no reason to decline, Brody thought. If life gives you lemons, make lemonade. Brody wasn't a complex guy and didn't see fault in that.

The sound of men dying could be heard from the front, men falling at the feet of Darshan to be exact. Darshan charged forward through the gunfire in their direction

"Commander! Suppress that man!"

"Suppress!" The Field Commander acknowledged relatively quickly as he saw the threat of the person that was running towards them with little regard for safety.

Instantly, as they heard their Commander's orders the men focused their fire on him to keep him pinned behind the stone walls.

Vasu took this opportunity to help up Brody as they departed with the Old Guard on their rear, disappearing into the forests. The Royal guard unit was too small to manage a pursuit instead went to recapture and return Rajgad Gulag to its original working order. To ensure that the rest of its prisoners were where they should have been and the exits were in full lockdown.

Darshan stood where he was.

"Specialist Major! What are you doing here?!" Lieutenant Sandhar from the helicopter noticed Darshan's presence.

"You're late, it's cost us the remaining Devas."

"Uh-…" The lieutenant was speechless, it was as Darshan said. His lateness cost them the Devas, but worst of all they had reunited with the Golden Path. The officer started to sweat as he owed Darshan an explanation for his complacency.

"…. The fault lies entirely with me, sir. I was under the impression that the new year truce would be still be in effect and with heavy guards at King's Bridge and the mountains it was unlikely there would be an assault this size. Had my soldiers not just returned from celebrating in the nearby village we would not have even arrived yet." Rather than deny it, he chose to admit to the mistake. There was no greasing this out, seriousness of the situation.

Darshan didn't answer immediately to reprimand him as he walked away towards the exit with the black leopard by his side.

"Mistress Lau will hear of this." While his reply had the absence of any threat, it was still frightening that Mistress Lau would be hearing of his failure. Darshan himself was not to blame for their escape. He'd come alone while the QRF were still mustering and killed a sizable amount of Golden Path Fighters and all bearing the mark of the old Guard, the former emblem of the old Royal Guard.

"Better late than never, Lieutenant. You did good coming." Darshan said before he went off and didn't turn back again. Hearing that the Royal guard Hunter specialist didn't sound so harsh in the end he had hopes he would not be facing heavy penalties. The Lieutenant saluted him crisply as he departed.

"Yes, Specialist Major Khati!"


Baghadur was in the mode of celebration, bright colourful lanterns were suspended from wires overhead the walkways and passages. The fighters and refugees alike partied to their hearts content and toasted to pints of ice cool Shangri-lager courtesy of the Royal Army and sponsored by Kyrati Lager.

It was a brief moment of joy out of the sorrowful moments which the Tigers had endured long and hard for their struggle to exist as the third power in Kyrat. But they had pulled through somehow, and considerable thanks for contributing to the Mukti Tigers conception was none other than the fabled Demon of Kyrat.

True to his promise, they received constant supplies of medical aid, rations, small-arms and ammunition. They conducted cross training with the Royal Army to boaster their combat proficiency up a notch above the regular partisan trained Golden Path. In their struggle, they learnt to depend wholely on the 5th and 6th Dragoons who were their lifeline to the Royal Army in the event the Golden Path launched another major offensive. Sadly, as much as they would have enjoyed sharing their celebratory wishes with the two battalions, they were on standby in the S-Program site. Ready to deploy by helicopters at a moments notice. Perhaps they were also celebrating over there, the Tigers emmersed themselves in positive thoughts as this was the only time they got to pour out their woes and stress.

"Cheers!"

"""CHEEERRRSS!"""

Raising their glasses to congratulate their section leaders recent promotion to field commander. The Tigers were on rather short supply of capable field officers so this was one of the rare occasions to celebrate.

Amita had completed her accessments on the new Command structure they adopted for the Tigers, sorting out the various field commanders and sub-commanders into the various roles they fill in. Only she was capable of doing such, at least that's what everyone believed. She was the Tigress of Baghadur, very little could get in her way of success and progress save their benefactor the Northern Demon.

"Amita, come join us for another!"

"No thanks, I'd like to turn in early tonight." She politely refused.

"Come onnnn! Just a sip, bos- Ouch!" The Commandant of the stronghold tapped the drunken fighters head.

"Oi! Can't give her a break? She's been busy all day filling in reports, let her get some shut eye early for once."

"Alright, then you'll take her place then!"

"Count me in!" The Commandant's attitude flipped 180.

Amita shook her head as she smiled, boys always will be boys. She made her way to the quiet of the lodging rooms, being the leader of the Tigers she had some privileges like a private room to herself.

It was truly one of the first times in a while she had gotten a good long sleeping period.

Amita wondered if she wasn't around how would the Tigers manage in her stead. A knock on the door as she settled down her belongings on the table.

"Amita, the waters ready. Go have yourself a hot bath, you've earned it, sister!" One of the members in charge of the logistics informed her.

"Thank you, sister." She responded curtly and went for that hot bath that was promised.

The showers were empty thanks to the party at the compound. Hot water was a luxury that was rarely afforded to them but since it was a special occasion, she thought to book a shower with the logistics.

The sensation of warm water banished all of her tension in her body and cleansed her mind of doubt and unsastifactory thoughts.

(Sigh)

Suddenly, after such a long time, Amita wondered what had become of Bhadra. It had been nearly three months since she'd seen the little rascal, not having her around to watch over her or cook made Amita feel as if a gap had appeared in her life. But she knew she would get the chance to meet her again when this war would come to a close after nearly two and a half decades of endless fighting. Badala wasn't so cold as to deny her that at very least.

She returned to her room freshened and ready to turn in. Curiously, she found a basket had been snuck in while she was out, it had to be that logistic attendant's doing. There were all sorts of items inside the three baskets that had a ribbon on them each. She reached out to grab one of the many cards within the baskets.

A smile leaked from her lips. They were letters of gratitude.

The Tigers had been responsible for evacuating nearly five hundred thousand civilians out of the Southern areas. Most of them were resettled in the many towns, Badala's town was no exception. While a fraction that were insistent on staying in Pacchim Valley due to the many prayer sites they wouldn't be able to access in future stayed in the camps where rather comfortable pre-fab shelters were being built for them between the protection of King's Bridge and Baghadur. An unofficial town was forming there and particularly popular social place had made an appearance there known as the Crazy Cock bar. Twas a popular location for recruiting and employment for the displaced refugees.

There were all manners of gifts in the basket hampers. From liquor bottles all the way to thangkas of Amita herself. Kyratis were rather generous when it meant from the heart, despite their tight situation. Her eyes loomed over the variety until it landed on a rather perculiar item that didn't fit in. A plushy, it appeared handmade and done quite well in quality. But as her thought, it was out of place. The plushy wasn't her but Badala.

Cladded in cotton black armor and wearing a plastic mask of Yalung. The doll seemed strangely cute and attractive that it irritated her for not picking it up sooner. She reached out and grasped the plushy in hand and went over to her mattress to lie down.

"I'm only here to stand against indifference!" She mimicked Badala's voice while manipulating the plushies hands to exaggerate the movements.

"You'll won't stop me, fryface! I'm Badala, Vice-Lord of the valley! Fear me! Respect me Golden Path!"

She giggled as she found her own imitation to be hilarious.

A silence matured within her room, she gazed deeply into the doll's button eyes behind the plastic mask.

In that silence she reflected upon her fated encounters with Badala. Her first wasn't so joyful as it was the Battle of Ratu Gadhi, what Golden Path called the worst military disaster until Sabal surprisingly beat her record in the Meh Teh Offensive. Although she found it strange that during that massacre, the shooter that killed her driver, the person that assisted her out of the toppled vehicle and the the field commander that told her to withdraw were all killed next to her. It was clear that whoever it was, they had definitely decerned her from the group yet were given orders not to kill her. Was it Badala himself then?

"Was that all part of your brilliant plan?" She asked the plushie.

"Why don't we discuss it over that bottle of whisky I owe you." She imitated Badala.

"Oh? Asking an enemy out on a date? How sly of you, Badala." She flirted.

"I could never consider the gorgeous and intelligent Amita to be one of my enemies. You're one of the smartest women I know in Kyrat!" She replied as Badala plushie.

Amita smiled as she thought that up as what the plushie would tell her as if that was what the real one would say. And then, she found it to be rather strange from what she was used to. It was only moment later before she realized the reason.

That was right, out of everyone that she'd met had always talked behind her back about how she was just a woman, how she was a conceit woman thinking of fantasies all day long instead of fulfilling her womanly duties. Back then, it was still a men's world. There was never a time a man had praised her for her hardwork, her ideals she believed in. Always "An upstart" or that ungrateful whore. Nobody acknowledged her for the strength she knew she had in her that were on greater or equal status as her within Golden Path or at Home besides herself.

But there was one exception, his expression wasn't in just words of praise. He actually believed in her ideals and that she was the right person for the job. Bestowing his blessing and logistical support they desperately needed which both saved them from dissolving the group and helped develop the Tigers into a competent powerhouse.

Amita wrapped her arms around the plushie snuggling against it, officially making it her new must have item when going to bed. Her face was just next to plushie Badala's.

As she stared into the button eyes the image of Badala behind the mask, the one that she knew as Soren appeared in front of her. That handsome face with brooding eyes, yet gentle and kind personality.

Before she knew it, her lips were fell gently upon the tiny mouth of the plushie.

(Bang) (Bang) (Bang) A loud hammering on her door broke her concentration and snapped her out of her trance.

"Amita! You there! It's urgent!"

"Uh-… hang on! I'm coming over!" She sleepily got out of the bed after only just about to fall asleep comfortable. She opened the door to demand explanation from the rude individual who woke her and had better have a good reason to.

"What is it…? (Yawn)"

"Amita, it's bad! De Pleur has attacked our QRF outpost and captured it. He's moving further inwards to our location." The Field Commander reported to her. Already, the party had been halted and the fighters were running about to gear up for an anticipated defense against a New Year offensive.

Amita was astounded for a brief moment upon hearing this, but her surprise changed to a frown.

-Sabal, you and the Golden Path have now reached a new type of low.-


"You'd better be here, Hurk! Because when we find you your death! You hear me?!" Having the same radio set as the Golden path, Hurk could hear them rant on the open channel. But he remained where he was, firm about not giving away his position.

Unfortunately, he had to relocate when the salvos of mortar rounds stopped because the kiln was about to topple over. The Mortar teams were cooling off the overused barrels of their weapons from the sustained barrages.

Hurk was out of kit and out of options, all he had left were two magazines of 7.62x51mm subsonic for the M110 sniper rifle that he took from the Cities armory before torching it.

Despite this, he was more concerned with the well-being of Daisy and the rest. Because the forces that were suppressing him were only a small fraction that held him back as the rest including De Pleur went to the Tigers' territory. He could hear the gunfire of a firefight taking place in the general direction of the Shanath training Ground outpost. Did they make it there and to safety? Or did they flee from the site at least? Hurk was full of unsurity, at very least he was clear that the Tigers had more pressing matters to attend to than him now.

-One option left. To break out of this trap I need to fight my way out.-

Hurk knew he was disregarding the "SAAB" rule that Ajay set for him regarding his survivability. But Jason's friends needed his help, if the Tigers were not able to lend a hand then not many would. But most of all, Kamala's parents desperately needed saving.

When Hurk heard the news that Kamala passed away, he was devastated. He went to Badala's homestead on the hill to seek some counselling but found that he was not suffering the true weight of her death as hard as Badala.

Three days, he remained in his room with all the spirits in the cellar gone. The other residence were in a pickle as to what they should do. Entering Badala's room, he dare not so he left him to seek his own piece of mind. The Condotierri, Ricardo and Stella were kind enough to lend an ear to his troubles so he had attained a clear conscience after that. How Badala overcame his grief, he did not know. Did he even overcome it?

His fury for Jason knew no bounds, so much so he wouldn't forgive him at all. He would rather kill Jason than ally with him. Hurk was the only one who could see with a clearer picture, in time he hoped that Ajay would accept this in the best of interests.

"Clear calm ocean…." Hurk murmured as he psyched himself for the killing he was about to undertake.

Hurk placed himself against the wall of one of the ruin buildings as the fighters searched for him with flashlights. "Come out, Hurk!"

One closest to him around the corner of the wall, he reached out and grabbed him by the mouth to muffle his cries and twisted his head.

(Crack)

The man fell motionless to the ground. Hurk proceeded to remove his affects from him, an AK rifle with three magazines. They weren't much to begin with but they were something.

The exit was eighty metres away from him through the ruin maze, he had the option of taking it loud or stealthy. So he chose the later until that too was compromised.

He crept through the rubble on his belly to reduce his silhouette and sound as much as possible, thankfully the Golden Path fighters weren't as well-trained as the soldiers from earlier. He neared the exit that was just beyond a length of trees in front of him. Never did he expect-

(Creek)

Twigs under his feet snapped from the running force he exerted into his feet. He sighed at himself internally for his carelessness.

"There!"

"Open fire!"

"Mortar teams, barrage due North fifty metres from our location!"

The sound of howling shells were on their way towards his location. Hurk was in a genuining tight spot as he'd just left cover of the ruins and was out in the open. He had only one choice.

Run!

Hurk ran as fast as his two legs could carry him, ignoring the gunfire that was aimed for him. Some lucky shots grazed him in the arm and a solid hit to the ballistic plate in his kelvar vest had almost made him lost his footing. But these were of little concern compared to the rain of death that was imminent in its arrival.

(POP)

The mortar rounds popped overhead releasing their deadly load of submunition bomblets.

(BOBOBOBOBOOM)

Hurk had managed to escape ground zero but was not enough to escape the fringes of the blast radius that flung him into a tree with shrapnel embedded in his torso. He coughed out a goblet of blood as he righted himself against the tree.

His teeth clenched as hard not to scream due to the pain of having his leg twisted in the wrong direction. Either way, he knew that this was the end of his trip.

"Search the area! He was definitely in there!"

Hurk didn't have long to make last minute preparations, he immediately tended to his more immediate problems like stopping the blood flow from his chest with the clotting agents while throwing a quick dressing on it. He then proceeded to count the last remain bullets in his magazines, he'd lost the AK rifle somewhere and only had what was with him which were the M110 sniper rifle and a sidearm.

"One full load of twenty, another with four….. (Huff)… two clips of .45. Ha! I'm all set, bullets for days." Hurk loaded the full magazine into the rifle and slapped the bolt release to load a fresh round in the chamber.

And it was just in time as one fighter found him and shouted his location to the rest. Hurk rewarded his effort with a slug through his head.

"This is our final chance! Make sure not to kill him! He's way more valuable alive!"

It was easier said than done. Like a cornered animal, Hurk would fight to the last drop of blood. Whenever a fighter appeared over the ridge or through the bushes they would only achieve instant death.

(Peak) (Peak) (PeakPeak) (Peak)

The suppressed shots rung in rapid succession as Hurk fired at anything that moved in front of him. A mound of bodies collapsed in front of him.

(Click)

Hurk quickly flung the empty magazine from his gun out and loaded the last one with four rounds left. Yet the number of Golden Path fighters remaining exceed that amount at roughly thirty-eight but he had managed to shut down fourteen of their fellow warriors.

He made sure his last four counted by waiting for the right moment. This time it was more difficult as they fired randomly in his direction through the bushes, some shots grazed him and the area closeby.

Three men came into his line of sight through the thermal optic. He waited for them to naturally align themselves which they conveniently did.

(Peak) Squeezing the trigger when the fated shot that severed three lives at once.

They fell in a row. Hurk silently fist-pumped the air in his mind.

-Triple kill!-

He recited the in-game commentary of that one online multiplayer game he played with some dudes way back in his global roadtrip, it was in Singapore if he remembered correctly. Hallo- Holly -or Helo something was the games name. He wasn't a computer genius or anything.

He was down to three shots. Unfortunately, there wasn't going to be anymore shots like the previous one. But he managed to take the lives of three more before-

(Click) This time, his rifle was truly empty. His sidearm 1911 automatically popped out and took its place, already loaded and ready to protect him as a last resort measure.

The fighters fired at him fiercely to encourage him to waste shots suppressing them to make his capture easier now that his rifle was out. But Hurk planned to not make it easy for them, in fact he planned for them to return home empty handed. He smiled madly as he pressed the handgun to his chin.

The fighters released cold sweat after realizing what was his next plan of action. "Don't!-."

Hurk closed his eyes and let the rush of treasured memories flow through him. His entire life's journey drove past him in a blink of an eye. But the best moments were in Kyrat, with his friends and his best Tatbro ever.

-Sorry Bad's. I'll make it up to you in the next life.-

His finger depressed on the trigger to actuate the hammer.

(POP)

"Huh?"

A familiar sound of a projectile above them popping to release submunition bomblets surprised everyone in the vicinity. Their thoughts were "Hey! We're still in here! Who gave the order?!"

(BOBOBOBOBOOM)

But the explosion wasn't where they were. It was instead where the mortar teams were deployed.

Someone had fired a counter-battery barrage back at the mortar teams. The sound of a helicopter suddenly burst overhead with a chain gun mounted searchlight shining where they were.

How could they not have heard the sound of the helicopter coming? The answer was true "nape of the earth" flying, something that only one chopper pilot was truly capable of in Kyrat.

*Right! Do your thing, boys!* Kamran announced to the Condotierri in his passenger compartment. They clipped their harnesses and rappelled down the ropes with their guns blazing.

The Fighters' first instinct to the power shift was to run, but their location could only take them so far due to the lack of cover in their area. Ricardo, Luigi and Emilio mowed them down with their backs turned.

With the end of the fighters, their attentions were dedicated to Hurk.

"Did I ever tell you how fucking lucky you are, fratello?" Ricardo grinned as he squatted next to Hurk to inspect his wounds.

"You mean like I've got a demon watching over me." The Condotierri shook their heads while sniggering.

"That demon is gonna roast you for leaving without consent and getting in this shitty situation if we don't get you back quick!"

"And you made the mother hen worry too!" Luigi adds Stella's concern.

"Yeah that too! Expect a scolding when we get back." Ricardo agreed.

"Yeah! You'd better rehearse your lines Hurk!" Luigi joked.

"I was referring to us." The colour on Luigi's face changed, it was clear her scolding wasn't just scolding to them. He went a distance already rehearsing.

"How'd you find me?"

"Your handiwork could be seen from miles away."

Kamran landed not far from where they were.

"Is it just you guys?" Hurk looked around them.

"Yep! Or what? Were you expecting someone else?"

"No!-That's not what I meant-."

"It's fine, brother. We got you."

"No. What I meant was how did you get rid of the mortar teams. I mean I don't see your chopper loaded with rockets or anything."

It turned out it was Pagan's personal helicopter. How did they get Kamran to fly them here without Pagan's consent was a mystery. If he found out, he'd kill them and feed them to the pigs.

"Oh! I think you're referring to this thing." Emilio lumbered what appeared to be a rocket launcher out of the helicopter, although it didn't look like the usual RPG-7 launcher carried around by rocket troops.

"I was surprised at first too. I mean I thought it was laser-guided or something at first but when the rocket suddenly flies above you... I thought it was a dud but then it came crashing down like a meteor releasing cluster bombs. Top-attack style. Who would have thought Longinus was crazy enough to built this nutty thing!" Emilio tapped Longinus's launcher.

Hurk looked at Ricardo who shrugged his shoulders. In the end of the day, it did its job perfectly well and inspired fear amongst the fighters.

"So weird... Why can't it just shoot straight?" Emilio murmured as he went off to load the launcher back on the helicopter.

Ricardo attended to the poorly done field dressing, Hurl could afford to relax now that he was safe but he couldn't. Grabbing hold of his arms he explained.

"Ricardo listen."

"Save your strength for later." But Hurks grip tightened.

"No you need to hear this. I need your help."

"What's this about then?" He waited patiently.

"It concerns Badala and Jason Brody not having to fight, and Jason no longer being our enemy. But the solution to this is currently on the run."

When Hurk replied the answer to their worries, Ricardo felt naturally inclined to listen.

"Let's hear it then."


Author's Notes:

During the introduction of Jason and other Brody, i seperated Brody's sentences from jason's through the use of Bold lettering. This was to give an impression that person wasn't mentally sound or was somehow different from a normal speech. But since Brody is the one running the show right now, I'll be removing this.