[Lyra's P.O.V]
Oh, gods. How did it come to this?
I can't believe they just deployed us, recruits, to the battlefield this early! We're barely through our first year and here we are, taking down what seems like scuba divers that wielded heavy machine guns and spears. I don't know what the heck is going on! I joined Drakos because I was curious and my life is basically going nowhere. Well, it looks like everything just got more interesting.
But I can't really blame anyone for not expecting this because we were already informed about this weeks ago. We were all called to gather in the war room, where they explained absolutely nothing and everything to us. As far as I know, they're just as confused as us and all they knew was that there was a big threat coming. I don't think even they expected this kind of threat. But just like the rest, they just adapted to the change and tried their best to keep up with the attacks.
That was great and all but that doesn't exclude the fact that a bunch of newbies is standing in a middle of a battle, just as confused and scared as a chicken lost in a middle of a skulk of foxes. I was mortified to hear that even the recruits have to join the rest of the agents on the battlefield. Not only are we inexperienced, but we're also incapable of harming another human being. I don't think we got to that part of the lesson.
General Haddock had pulled us aside a week ago to give us a pep talk. I noticed that Jack wasn't accounted for. Actually, I noticed that he wasn't present for a few weeks now! When I shared my unusual concern with the general, she just said that he'll not be joining us in the war. We asked why but she refused to tell us, saying that it was confidential but assured us that everything is fine. As much as I want to believe her, the ominous and dark tone in her voice didn't convince me at all. But it's not like I'd try to argue with her. She already seems angry enough with the subject; if I try to push it, I might end up just like him—wherever he is.
On the other hand, I was shocked to learn that General Haddock had to suffer this type of situation when she just graduated from being a recruit. Although it was entirely different for us, recruits, I can quite relate with all the bewilderment she and a couple more graduates had to feel when they were deployed to a battle this early. I was astonished to hear that General Haddock's first mission was an entire war that decided the fate of the world. It only made me respect her more. Of course, she told us that there were casualties and that it was entirely normal.
But sadly, it did nothing to settle my nerves. General Haddock was more experienced than us back then, of course she would survive. But us? The chances are horrifyingly low. So when the alarms and bells went off, a cold shiver ran down my body as I stiffly walk over to my closet to grab my gear. It was a simple titanium-threaded armor to protect her main body from bullets and bolts. It's not much, but it certainly raised her chances of surviving. Grabbing all four of her guns, she slipped them into their individual holsters strapped onto her waist and back and headed out.
Once we arrived in Fólkvangr Beach, we made sure to stay clear of the very end of the beach, supposedly it was a very sacred area that shouldn't be tainted by blood nor war. Whatever it is, it seemed important to them that they had constructed an entire clay wall to prevent any civilian or enemy from entering. We then built an entire defensive barrier, putting up spiked walls, miniature-machine guns inside the barks of trees, and a couple of traps in the sand.
It didn't take long for the enemy to make the first move. It was terrible. At first, I thought I was imagining the yellow lights zipping past me. But it only occurred to me that they were bullets when one of them struck one of the agents beside me. That vivid image of the blood running down his forehead while the bullet remained embedded in his flesh will forever remain burnt in my memories. My instincts took over and I hid behind the tree, the Cardinal twins resting beside me; an equally frightened expression etched on their faces.
It only lasted for a couple of minutes before I spotted Headmaster Cutthroat launch something to the ground, where it sparked and erupted into a valley of flames. More followed on the other side as the fire conquered the beach with its inferno, burning the sand and our enemies to the ground. I covered my ears to block their screams, but they managed to squeeze the gaps of my fingers and echo across the chambers of my mind.
When the flames died, I peeked behind my hiding spot and the blood drained from my face. I'm more than familiar with death, especially since my dad was murdered right in front of me as a child. But this was entirely different. Their bodies were blackened, scorched, charred beyond recognition. What remained of their skin was blotched and pieces of fabric had melted onto their reddened flesh. The stench of their burnt bodies reached my nose and I nearly puked. It was a horrible scene to witness, but my eyes failed to leave their forms as General Haddock walked up to them and inspected the corpses.
She just stared at them for a few moments before shouting an order to us, "Prepare for battle! There'll be more of them coming!"
We later found out that her statement was proven true when all of a sudden, we saw them emerging from the water It was so bizarre that I wasn't able to move from my spot when the rest of the agents immediately reached for their weapons and left the forest to meet them. They stopped when they reached the sand, rooting their feet in the white grains and raising their armament in preparation. General Haddock, herself, was the first in line, boldly dragging her axe menacingly. I couldn't see her expression from behind but only from the aura she's emitting, I can tell she looked fierce and scary.
I spotted the rest of the officers walk to her side, including the massive form of our chief, Shatter. Just like everyone else, I'm curious about how this is going to turn out. No one other than a few people had seen the large man fight. I wonder how, especially with all those heavy chains hanging all over his body. But I guess I shouldn't doubt his ability—he is the chief for a reason. Who knows how much hard work and trouble he had to face in order to achieve that position.
I watched as the rest of the agents joined the officers' line when suddenly, I was pushed from behind, dislodging me from my frozen state. I turned around to see Headmaster Cutthroat, regarding me with a grim smile and urging me to move along. As terrified as I am, I knew that I couldn't just hide forever. The twin had already been moved to the line, albeit they were hiding in the back. The headmaster placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, but his face was anything but. It was stern and hardened, his pale-skin seemed to have gained some sort of color. His cold blue eyes reflected against mine and I immediately understood what he's trying to say.
'Be careful...'
It wasn't much, but I appreciated the concern. We're going to need every available person that's capable of fighting. That includes the recruits, despite lacking an incredible amount of experience. I just hope that I survive long enough to at least see us win. At least I'll know then that our sacrifices won't be in vain.
Stepping to the line where the agents are huddling up, we simply waited for the opportunity to rise. Now that I was close enough, I had the perfect chance to observe our enemy, which resulted in not that much. It's kinda hard to analyze them through the tinted scuba masks that encased their entire faces. They were all clad in scuba gear, skin-tight silicon suits that emphasized their figures. I noticed that they didn't have a specific feature; all of them were different, whether it's height to size to gender. But what I can truly be sure of is that there's a lot of them.
The wave of scuba-divers emerged from the shore, seawater dripping down their suits and weapons as they struggled to carry their weight on the beach. I don't know what to feel about them. Sure, they're on their way to murder us but I somehow believe that they mean no harm. Even though I'm just barely a rookie, I could tell that they aren't experienced with the weapons they're holding. The fishing spears—which aren't proper battle armaments in the first place—were held in the wrong way, almost as if they're hunting for boars instead of rushing to battle.
The ones holding the guns are far worse. I don't know if they're even capable of using them. They just dragged the guns across the sand, seemingly to use them as some sort of melee weapon; totally disregarding its original purpose. Some were holding it properly, but the weight of the machine guns was obviously too much for them. I somehow doubt that they could use them, even if they're strong enough to carry them.
This made me wonder if all this trouble was really worth it. I mean, we gathered the entire agency of Drakos to defend this beach, told the mayor of Los Angeles to initiate an evacuation, and probably bred new fears in the hearts of the people. I'm pretty sure General Haddock or even any agent could take them all on with no trouble.
But yet again, I'm no veteran. I'm not even a proper agent yet! I can't just stand here and criticize them just because I feel like all of this is useless. But it's really bothering me that no one seems fazed that the enemy doesn't even feel or look like an army. Despite the huge fleet sailing behind them, this is supposed to be a breeze for a Drakos. So why isn't it? What do they know that I don't know.
But whatever it is, it'll have to wait.
I don't know if they were able to sense the scorn I was shooting at them or not, but something just riled them up. Most of them started visibly twitching, some were even outright trembling to the point that they barely held onto their spears and guns. But after a long while, the shaking stopped and their gazes locked with our division. Without any warning, they took off and crossed the beach within seconds.
It seemed that General Haddock expected this because once they started rushing forward, she declared with a loud voice, "OPEN FIRE!"
The stationed rifles, Treetops as they called them, immediately fired a rain of bullets at the army, easily ripping their ranks apart. Clouds of thick blood air stained both the sand and the air. Flesh was being torn apart. The poor soldiers who were the first to receive the attack had been completely decimated, holes riddling their entire bodies as their weapons laid across the sand uselessly.
But we weren't done...
The agents up on front raised their guns up high, aiming at the survivors who were desperately leaping over their dead comrades, ignoring the corpses as if they were a wild animal chasing for its prey. Once they crossed a specific line, the agents launched a barrage of projectiles, both sharp and blunt, gunning the incoming enemies before they could even reach half of the beach. Screams and cries pierced through the sky, echoing across the night as the rest of the agents watched our enemies' blood spill all over the ground.
The constant flashes of light coming from the agents' guns reflected across my eyes. I don't know whether to be in awe of their organized and synchronized attack or in horror of the hundreds of deaths I'm witnessing with my own two eyes. But for some horrible reason, I thought that it was a bit underwhelming. When I first saw my dad die, my body rejected the food I just ate and I vomited all over the floor. The crimson-liquid leaking out of his neck splattered across my face and I was forced to retch until my stomach hurt. But upon seeing our enemies being honeycombed with bullets and bolts, I felt... nothing. Albeit I still think that it's horrendous to look at, no other emotions stirred in my stomach. I hate to admit it but I almost felt relieved.
Maybe it's because I know that they're bad guys? If my mom had been the one that was killed back then, would I've had reacted the same way? All of these questions filled my head, distracting me from the ongoing battle— no, massacre occurring in front of me. I was so preoccupied with my thoughts that I failed to see the one person who was able to dodge multiple bullets and rush forward in a sleek manner. He isn't like the other soldiers; in fact, he looks like he isn't supposed to be there at all. Unlike the rest, he carried a thin blade, a rapier, and held it in a thrusting position. He had already crossed the middle of the beach, probably lusting to kill at least one of us.
Once my eyes caught his speeding form, my hand immediately reached for one of my guns but before I could even pull it out, Headmaster Cutthroat lunged from our ranks and met the enemy with fervor. I noticed that he had taken out his garrote wire and as he countered the man's first thrust, he spun around and expertly wrapped the extremely thin line around his neck. Headmaster Cutthroat kneeled onto the sand, holding the strangling man against his back as he flailed to escape the headmaster's hold.
But it turned out to be useless. The rapier fell down to the sand, long forgotten and his hands replaced it with his neck, desperately trying to pull the line off. I could only imagine the fear clutching his heart when you slowly near your death. I can't see his face but you don't have to, to see the panic settling. It only took half a second but the choked cry that escaped the man's lips made the hairs on my skin stand up before the wire slipped through his throat and his head came off flying. Headmaster Cutthroat lets go of the garrote and allows the decapitated body to fall to the sand, red ichor leaking out of the wound.
Smoke oozed out of the barrels of my fellow comrades, the wave of bullets finally coming to a stop when the last scuba-diver received a perfectly straight shot from a Treetop, burying right into their forehead as they lurched backward and joined the rest of their dead allies on the pile of corpses. My hand hovered over my holster, but I made no move to take them out. I know that I'm supposed to be part of the marksmen, but what can a rookie with barely any training and a couple of pistols do? They had it covered and the battle was over before I even knew it.
But I heard no cry of joy nor cheers once the final blast sounded off. In fact, everyone had a grim expression etched on their faces. Seeing them shuffling anxiously, I wasn't sure whether to be glad that it's over or worried. I tried convincing myself that that was the war, a simple one-hour battle with no causalities and barely wasted ammunition, but deep inside me knows that this is hardly the entire thing. The world wouldn't panic and assemble a defense line for an enemy like this. These guys must be smarter than we expected. I could almost see the observing eyes of our enemies, watching our every move and strategizing a plan to take us down.
"We hit the ten-minute mark! Reload the Treetops and restock the guns! We're holding this line till' sunrise!" I hear our chief, Shatter, declare thunderously. His vast stature is easily the fastest to spot, especially when his combat suit is so much more different than the rest of us.
A few agents left the line to follow the orders, while the rest relaxed for a little bit as we wait for the next wave. I moved out of the ranks and leaned against one of the trees, allowing the night breeze to cool me down. Despite not even participating in the actual battle, I was exhausted to the core. I take a look around and everyone else was just fine; already used to the horrible scenes and traumatic deaths occurring around them. I spotted the Cardinal twins just barely out of my sight. They were huddled next to a boulder, clutching their swords as if their life depended on them.
Unlike me, this is probably the first time they have ever seen someone die in front of them—and it happened repeatedly and horribly. This is not the greatest first impression, especially when most of the deaths were due to burning, mutilation, gunning, and decapitation. I have to admit that something bubbled in my stomach when I some of those but the pale expressions on the twins' faces told me that they were not prepared at all.
I felt sorry for them, but I also couldn't blame them at all. This is war and this is bound to happen.
I heard something rustling next to me and when I looked up to see who it was, I nearly stumbled out of the tree when General Haddock silently slipped past the crowd and settled right next to me. Mimicking my position, she leaned against the trunk and bent her knee to place her boot against the bark. I don't how long I was staring indecorously at her, but it seemed that it got under her skin after a while.
She turned around and met my eyes. "Is there a problem?" She asked. Although her tone wasn't accusing nor angry, I couldn't help but flinch when she caught me.
"S- sorry, General Haddock. I was just... wondering why you came here." I replied, unable to stop the nervousness from affecting my voice.
General Haddock simply arched a brow. "Am I not allowed here?" I quickly shook my head, so fast that I almost sprained my neck. She huffed out an amused chuckle, leaning more comfortably on the tree. Her axe stood by her side, still clean and gleaming. "Also, drop the labels for now. Besides, I'm not the general anymore."
"Wait, you're no longer the general? Really, Gener—" She sent me a pointed look. "I mean, how did that happen?"
"Let's just say shit happens. Just call me Astrid from now on."
"Astrid..." I repeated. It feels weird to say it, almost as if I'm disrespecting her, despite when she already told me that I'm not. It would need some time to get used to but I doubt I'll have to use it after the war—if I survive.
She must've noticed my solemn look because the next thing I know, I felt a gentle hand resting on my shoulder guard. I looked up in surprise, my own eyes widening mechanically as her pristine blue eyes shined with concern. It feels odd when Gener— Astrid, showed some compassion and any other positive emotion other than frustration. I kinda missed the stern glare that she would always wear whenever she would train us, especially when we messed up. But the soft look doesn't look too bad on her.
"You alright?" She asked, voice hinting with solicitude. I open my mouth to answer but the words won't come out. My vocal cords just stopped working all of a sudden, prompting me to shut my mouth so I won't look stupid. but it seems Astrid got the general idea of how I'm feeling already.
"It's the battlefield, huh?" She asked, and I just nodded in confirmation. No point in hiding it. Plus, she would probably pick up the lying tone in my voice if I tried to dodge the question. Astrid hummed in understanding, leaning back against the tree. "Yeah, looks like the twins aren't alone. They couldn't even speak..."
After a while, my voice finally emerged from my throat. "How are they?" I'm genuinely concerned for the two. It looks like they could barely hold their own weight. What do you think would happen if they finally set foot in the real battle?
"Traumatized. Can't say I blame any of you. It's my fault for not including this in your training." She replied, pursing her lips and heaving out a heavy sigh. "Reminds me a lot when I was a recruit like you. A hot-headed bitch that only knew how to swing an axe at trees."
I stifled a snicker, leaning away so she couldn't see my creeping smile. This may be a lighthearted conversation but I try to be cautious around people who have the power to kill me with a single strike. But her words reminded me of the time she told us about her first time in a war like this. I wonder how did it go with her side during that time. It won't hurt to be curious, right?
"You said that this happened as well years ago." I started, grabbing the attention of the general. "How did you feel back then?"
Astrid looked away for a while, staring up at the hunter-green leaves that hovered above our heads. I could see the gears turning and grinding in her head with a slight smile on her lips, probably reminiscing those days. "I can't say I relate to any of you either in this situation because like I said, I was already a trained agent at that point. Our graduation had been crashed by an aerial attack. Luckily, there were only a few casualties but it riled the entire agency up. We headed over to their base and basically crashed whatever they were doing. I tried my best to survive but I shared your fear back then."
I turn to look at her, shooting her a flabbergasted look. I couldn't believe that the prideful general of Drakos just admitted to being scared. I just find it fascinating and incredibly shocking that someone can just say it so bluntly, knowing how shielded and easily-tempered the blonde is. It's a common fact that everyone gets scared—it's just that not everyone would like to admit it. But if someone did, Astrid would be the last one that would come to mind.
She craned her head towards me, grinning upon seeing my unhinged jaw just hanging below my mouth. "Yeah, I was scared. But I knew that I had to move past that if I wanted to survive. Just like you, we had no choice but to follow orders. We need every man and woman on this beach. A single person, even if they're a recruit, has the ability to change the tide of the war."
"How about now?" I asked cautiously. "Are you still scared? Even for a little bit?"
"Everyone gets scared, Lyra. If anyone says otherwise, they're lying. But of course, I have to keep this front up to inspire the other agents. They don't call me Fearless Hofferson for nothing!" Astrid exclaimed with a bright smirk.
I, however, tilted my head. "Fearless Hofferson?"
"My maiden name."
"Oh..."
It took me a while to realize it but once it finally sunk in. My artificial orbs slowly enlarged upon the revelation. I whipped my head to the side, casting a dumbfounded expression on the blonde. I didn't care if it seemed disrespectful or uncomfortable but I'll probably regret asking it if it would elicit a reaction from Astrid.
"You're married?!"
The general just shot me a smile and an arched eyebrow, watching my face morph into confusion with amusement. "Was. But yes, I was once married but that's all I'm going to say. I thought it was quite obvious?" She inquired with a grin, much to my relief.
"I mean, I know you have a kid but you don't look alike at all. So I thought..."
"That she's adopted?" Astrid asked. I nodded sheepishly. "Well, you're right. She is adopted... but I have a son back home that's entirely biological. You should meet him, I think you'll finally be the one who can calm that little Rugrat down."
I let out a hearty laugh, while Astrid joined me with a small chuckle. Damn, I never thought that conversing with my superior, especially with someone as high-ranking as General Haddock, could be so... relaxing. I almost forgot we're in a war and that the enemy's fleet is just meters away from us. Since I started talking with her, the images of all the gruesome deaths that I witnessed minutes ago just faded into oblivion.
To be honest, I would've never expected General Haddock to be this easy-going person. I know I shouldn't judge anyone by their appearance but man... she really does have a menacing scowl on her face all the time. This is the softest expression I've seen on her and it's oddly uncomfortable. I'm still used to the furrowed brows, winter-cold eyes, and pressed lips out of disappointment or frustration. But in a situation where I would never even imagine finding someone smiling, General Haddock is practically putting her feet up and inviting me to play with her children. What the hell is going on?
But as much as I'm weirded out by everything, I somehow find this atmosphere relaxing. Drakos isn't exactly a place to lounge around, but there is a place in the recruitment building called the Bench but I almost have no time to visit it. But this is great as well; chatting with the general of Drakos as if we're long-time friends is incredibly overwhelming. I wish this could go on for much longer.
"Incoming ships spotted! Get your asses up and rally to the front!"
Of course, this happens...
My eyes gazed out into the sea and sure enough, a small fleet of amphibious warfare ships is making their way towards the beach. It looks like they're packed with both soldiers and weapons so we might need to take this more seriously than the previous attack. Agents all around me began rising out of their seats and arming themselves. There are less than a thousand people in this division, while our enemies are stacked with numbers. I really hope we can get through this.
I spot Headmaster Cutthroat urging the Cardinal twins to get up but they remained frozen in their place. They weren't even looking at the headmaster and it looks like they were off in their own world. I saw Captain Boggs silently maneuvered through the crowd, slipping past the ranks without anyone noticing her presence.
Damn, that was... impressive.
More and more agents were leaving the forest to join the line as I watched them pass by me. There isn't even a hint of fear in their eyes. I envy their courage and bravery. Unlike them, I'll probably freeze up in the middle of battle and get myself killed. But I won't just sit here and wallow in my fears. If I'm going to die, I'm going to at least bring one of them down with me. I was about to leave my spot to join the others when I felt someone wrap their hand around my wrist.
I was surprised to see General Haddock, regarding me with a serious look. "You. Stay by my side and guard by back." She said, or ordered, judging by the tone in her voice. I couldn't believe my ears. Is she really saying that she needs me? Me? An inexperienced recruit who's probably at the bottom of the class and only has her guns going for her? She must be out of her mind! Maybe she just wants me by her side so I won't screw up. That's probably the most plausible reason for all of this... yeah.
Apparently, Astrid saw the doubt on my face and her expression softened slightly. "I know your skills, Agnor. You know how to aim and shoot with a gun. I just need you to cover my back. I know you can do it. Just look back at your records. You're one of the best marksmen we ever had in Drakos"
I accidentally let out a scoff. My hands flew to my mouth, eyes widening as big as saucers upon realizing what just escaped my lips. I practically disrespected the general's statement with that single sound. But fortunately, she took no offense to it. She simply shot me an arched brow, questioning my doubts and thoughts.
"It's just that..." I sighed. "I don't know if I can do this. I... I don't know how to shoot... a real-life person."
I look back at the general, who was just staring at me with a deep frown. Gods, I just disappointed her, huh. She thinks I'm a coward and a dumbass for trying to join the agency and refusing to kill when their sole purpose and goal is to eliminate certain threats. Why did I join this organization in the first place if I'm going to act all sensitive about it? This is just fuc—
"Who's the most precious person in your life?" Astrid suddenly asked, ripping me out of my thoughts.
"What?"
"Who is your most precious person?" She repeated. Her prominent blue eyes bore through my soul, almost staring at my deepest darkest secrets. It was strange but calming at the same time like she was asking permission to unlock my treasure chest instead of just ripping it open just like what she expected. Before I knew it, I blurted out the first person that showed up in my mind.
"My dad... He was the most precious person in my life before he died."
She nodded sternly, but I could see the sympathy in her eyes. "If your dad is still alive right now and you have the perfect chance to protect him, would you do it?"
"Of course!" I replied vigorously. If I had one more chance back then; one more opportunity to bring myself to my feet and stop my mother from stabbing that empty glass bottle in his neck, then I'll take it in a flash.
"Then if your dad is right there in that battlefield..." She points out to the beach, where hundreds of dead bodies laid across the sand, piling on top of each other like garbage. Agents were bringing them from the beach and throwing them together with the rest, creating this wall of corpses.
I spotted the agents taking out a Molotov and throwing it at the mound, dousing it in oil and flames to get rid of them. The sickening smell of their rotting corpses was filling the air, death consuming our surroundings more than I thought. The flickering tails of the blazing fire reflected in my eyes and for a moment, I saw my dad standing in front of them. Their burning flesh soon joining the sky and their souls vanishing without a trace, while my dad just stood there, ignoring the quiet but scorching flames behind him.
General Haddock turns back at me. "...what would you do? What would you do if you had one chance to save him from death. How much are you willing to push through your limits to reach your goal?"
My eyes locked with hers and for a second, I almost thought that she knew about my eyes. The artificial optics adjusted to the light, slowly but robotically increasing the width of my irises. I tore my gaze from her and stared right back at the burning corpses—with my dad still standing in front of it. He had an oddly calm smile on his wrinkling face, grey strands sticking out of his untamed beard.
But from behind him, I saw one of the corpses move. Its hand thrust out of the pile and began clawing its way out until its head poked out of the flames. Its flesh was badly burnt, already on the verge of melting to its skull. Half of its body was still functioning while the other simply hung off its bones like dead skin. It slowly crawled out of the rest of the bodies and once it finally escaped, it stood on its mangled legs and began making its way towards my dad.
The blood drained out of my face. I tried to yell out to get him to leave but I found it to be useless when my throat dried up. The corpse was inching closer, dragging its feet against the sand. None of the agents saw it and apparently, it's up to me to handle it. My heart pounded against my chest as my options dwindled to one. Without anything to lose, I hastily grabbed one of my guns and drew it at the corpse.
My breaths slowed down, the air escaping my lips forming into a miniature cloud in front of my eyes. Everything seemed foggy all of a sudden, but my hand gripped the handle tightly. My finger moved in slow motion, maneuvering it to the trigger. But before I could pull it, I felt someone hold the barrel but they didn't move it out of the way.
I followed the hand on top of my gun to General Haddock, who had a small smile drawn on her lips the entire time. I looked back at the front, but all I saw were the burning corpses and the wet sand. No undead corpses and no dads in trouble. It was all in my head... but I still pulled out the gun. I could've killed someone, even though they're already dead. I would've pulled the trigger if it weren't for her.
"Next time in battle, keep that same energy." I hear Astrid say.
I turn back at her, but she had already left her spot. She stood up to her full height, slightly shorter than I am but I'm not going to mention that in front of her. She could pin me down within seconds and probably kill me in less than that. Her luscious flaxen blonde hair was tied into a single braid; her double-bitted axe hanging off by her side majestically. A dead-serious expression remained plastered on her face.
But when she looked at me, her eyes softened just a little. "Come on, Agnor. Time's a-wastin'. Just make sure to protect my back while I handle the front." Astrid then takes a metallic, colorful crescent-shaped object out of her pocket and proceeded to attach it to the bottom half of her face. The ends strapped themselves around her head and locked with a tiny hiss. Before she joined the others, she looked at me and winked.
"Make sure to make use of those eyes of yours." She remarked, her voice slightly muffled by the mask but I wasn't focusing on that.
And with that, I was left with my jaw hanging, while General Haddock walked away with a nod. I couldn't believe what I just heard but at the same time, the shock was slowly fading away as I remembered the words Ezra told me earlier this morning. I shouldn't be ashamed of my eyes nor should I try to hide them. I actually met the blacksmith of Drakos, Gerald or Gobber as everyone would call him. He does lack a few limbs but no one criticized him for it. It looks like General Haddock is also fine with it.
'Damn, I was worried about nothing at all!' I chuckled to myself.
All of a sudden, I felt someone nudge me in the shoulder. When I look around, I locked eyes with the pale blue ones of Headmaster Cutthroat. My soul nearly left my body at that moment but fortunately, only a suppressed yelp came out. "Hurry up, Agnor. Get into positions." He tells me, pulling out a pair of jagged knives that made me gulp. After what he just did with a single line of wire, I wouldn't want to see what he can do with real blades.
"I- uh, General Haddock actually told me to watch her back. I- if that's okay." I retorted, recalling her words. But I wonder if she really meant them or that's just her way of calming me down so that I could keep my head in the game.
Headmaster Cutthroat simply shot me a quirked brow but didn't bother to ask me any more of it other than that. "Alright, then. But you better get moving before—"
He wasn't able to finish his sentence when everything suddenly shook. I'm not talking about the ground; I'm talking about the sky. Yes, the sky literally trembled as if it was part of the geological surface of the earth. I don't know how to describe it but it felt like the air pressure grew tighter within our bodies, pressing against our skin as if it was threatening to crush us. The clouds shattered completely, blown away by a huge gust of wind that seemed to come out of nowhere.
The air continued to quake while everyone just looked around, all confused and anxious but they still held their ground. I could hear the sounds of the impacts that are ringing off across the entire city. Whatever it is, it felt like a meteor shower just raining down upon the earth. The sonic booms of the collisions caused a high-pitched noise to sing into my ear, purposefully making me cover them, as well as everyone else.
Headmaster Cutthroat, on the other hand, barely flinched at the sudden trembling. He simply gazed out to the sky, eyes trained on the small trail of smoke that's hovering over the city. I perked up an eyebrow with my eyes still placed over my ears. I wanted to think that it's just a normal quirk of the headmaster but the slightly bewildered look on his face really caught my attention. It's completely different from his usual indifferent expressions.
"Is something wrong, sir?" I asked, rubbing the insides of my ears as the noise slowly went away. "The sky... it just..."
"Shook." He finished for me. "It came from the other side. The smoke is coming from the west so it must be around Thor's Beach."
My optics widened, "That's where the other division is!" I exclaimed. Something must've happened to them. Maybe the enemies from their side launch a grenade or something. But that's too small compared to the rumbling that we just experienced. My guess is that the enemy fleet on their side has something to do with it.
"Yes, we must move now. We don't want that to happen to us." Headmaster Cutthroat said. He turned around to leave but not without leaving me a warning. "Stay safe, Agnor. Spread out your sense and make sure to make use of those eyes of yours. It'll be a waste not to."
I blinked. "Wait, what?"
[Normal P.O.V]
A single man wrapped himself in his arms uncomfortably. The people around him were certainly the worst kind of people he has ever met but he has to follow orders and put up with them; even if he has to squeeze himself in between two of the Bratva members who wore nothing but a white wifebeater and a pair of jeans. He could feel their slippery sweat on his clothes and he suppressed the urge to glare at the two. The disgusting stench of their breaths filled the air, polluting the entire ship with the smell of rum and chicken.
He couldn't believe that he, the waka gashira[1] of one of the most infamous Yakuza organizations—Yamaguchi-gumi—has to ride along in the ship with a bunch of sweaty Russians. Granted, most of them clean up well but he just so happens to be beside the ones who don't and it's infuriating to him. He can't just push them aside or threaten them to move because for one, he'll be in a lot of trouble. He's surrounded by these big guys and he doesn't think any of his comrades will help him if he gets jumped.
And secondly, there's a strange man with them today. One that is personally requested to ride with them in this second wave by the boss and by the looks of it, it would be a pretty bad idea to start a fight with him in the picture. He doesn't know if he's on this ship in particular, but he would rather avoid taking that chance. So he kept his mouth shut and tolerated the smell throughout the entire ride.
Luckily, they didn't have to wait long. They finally felt the ship slowing down until they something in the front, nearly causing the two mafia members to fall on top of the poor Yakuza man. He swears that if they touch him again with their sweat-ladened skin, he'll force them to perform yubitsume but he'll make sure that they'll cut off all of them.
A dense pressure of gas began spewing out of the locks of the door as it gradually lowered down with a mechanical groan. He could hear the gears moaning against the bars, continuously moving until the tip slammed against the sand. The stench has finally escaped the horrible ship, ending their suffering, only to be met by another one.
When the door opened, they were greeted by a lone man standing by the shore, in front of a burning wall. At first, both the Bratva and the Yakuza were stunned and perplexed to see this surreal scene. Flames were enveloping a pile of objects that seem to look like corpses, that stretched out across the beach, blocking their view of what's beyond this. The man, who they noticed to be one of the palest people they have ever seen, just stared at them with a pair of phlegmatic blue eyes.
The crowd just regarded him with a bunch of frowns and puzzled glares. They have no idea who this man is but if he's here on the beach, then that means he's one of the enemies. The Yakuza member drew silver-forged katana out of his hip and walked forward, while the rest of them began to follow his lead. The Bratva members held onto their guns that are strapped onto their chests, not making a move to use them but still remaining cautious of the lone man.
Meanwhile, the same man stared right back at them with a blank look whilst reaching for something strapped onto his back. His fellow kyodai[2] immediately drew their weapons, metal sliding against their sheaths as their blades shone against the moonlight. The empty shells of their bullets popped out from ejection ports of their guns as the Russians cocked them backward. But the man ignored their threats and proceeded to pull out a spherical object from behind him.
But as they got a closer look, they found out that it was a head. The man held it up by its hair, allowing the army to see its disfigured and melted face. Half of its skin had already been scraped off, the hollow sockets and white surface of his skull peeking behind the burnt flesh. Even the gangsters in the army were taken aback by the gruesomeness. However, the man holding it didn't even flinch at the sight and proceeded to throw it at the Yakuza member's feet. He followed it with his eyes as it rolled across the sand and into his feet.
"What do you think we should do?" One of the Russians asked in his native language, his eyes never leaving the pale form of the man. But his gaze would occasionally flicker at the severed head on the sand.
Of course, the waka gashira understood none of the words he just said but he figured out what he was trying to say. With a growl, he kicked the head away and glared at the pale man. "Kill him. Then we move forward. They must be hiding behind the fire." The Japanese man replied, earning him a few looks of confusion from the Bratva members.
"Kakiye?" He tilted his head. Sometimes, diversity within an army won't always be a good thing and one of its problems is the language barrier.
The waka gashira let out a frustrated groan. "I said..." He formed a gun with his fingers and aimed at the guy, mimicking a shot with his hand and gesturing towards the entire beach. "Shoot everywhere!"
Finally understanding it, the Bratva member called out to his fellow gangsters and relayed the message. Soon, a couple more of them shoved their way to the front, dragging their M134s along in their hands and aiming it at the man, who barely winced at them. The waka gashira speculated that this all a trap and something is hiding behind the wall of flames. That's why he asked the brutes to shoot up the entire beach just in case.
They were the first ones to dock but the last two ships are sailing closer so it'll be better if they clear this beach out before they could come. He turned around for just one second to check if the ships are still coming and somehow, he had missed an entire scene. Right as he whirled his head around, a splatter of blood just spilled all over his face and everything shifted to black. With his vision gone, he could only hear the commotion occurring around him escalate as the seconds passed by. Gunshots rang everywhere; he could hear chain links jangling right near his ear before it would disappear in a flash. Cries of anguish and screams of anger echoed across the entire beach and some were nearer than he expected.
The waka gashira tried moving around but he ended up slamming against multiple people; people that he's not even sure if they're his allies or not. But whatever is happening, all he knows that blood is being spilled. He could the ground shake and a muffled explosion erupting from somewhere. He could sense the companions from his side were disappearing and he could feel the heavy bodies of the unknown obstructing him from moving. Loud clanging chains could be heard swinging around, clashing against metal, sand, and flesh but he has no idea what's going on.
He thrust his hands to his eyes and tried his best to wipe the thick ichor away from his face, but it proved to be difficult through the chaos. All he could see is the blurry darkness of the night and the constant lights of the burning wall of corpses. He would constantly bump to people around him and all the mind-numbing noises are starting to get to him. Something hard and cold suddenly slammed against his back, forcing him to his knees and his face met the wet sand. The tiny grains stuck with the viscous blood on his face, irritating his skin. The katana in his hand is gradually tempting him and after one more explosion sounded off in the background, something in him just snapped.
A loud guttural scream left his lips as he suddenly waved his hand around, swinging his blade like a madman. He climbed onto his feet and hacked his way towards wherever he is. He could feel his blade slicing through the air but every once in a while, he felt it carving through something soft and he could guarantee that it's someone's flesh. He doesn't care if it's one of his stupid Russian allies; just as long as he could keep himself safe from the bullshit that's happening around him.
Unbeknownst to him, he is actually managing to dodge the incoming attacks that are flying through the air like homing missiles, narrowly missing them as he continued to lash out blindly. The wind howled in his ears, molding with the loud booming noises of the explosions and the crackling of the flames. More screams filled the air, mixed with different emotions but the only one he could hear is the one from his own voice. The sand beneath his feet began to feel heavier, the bodies of his allies and enemies joining the earth.
But even with his 'flawless' strategy, someone was able to grab the end of his blade and yank it out of his grip. He stumbled forward but the smoldering fire in him continued to burn him alive as he planted his foot under the sand to keep himself up. "Give that back to me!" He cried out, only for him to feel a wave of pain flare down from his cheek.
A powerful crack rang off into the night as the sudden force sent the poor man face-first into the sand once more. His cheek pounded with pain, both internally and externally. If the noise wasn't affecting him before, then it surely is now. He let out a groan, followed by a violent cough that caused him to spit out blood. As disoriented his mind is, he still struggled to stand up but after that hit. The fire that drove him has been extinguished and stomped, allowing him to have a moment of silence before the muffled noise returned and the chaos is now more than evident around him.
Slowly, he used one of his free hands to rub the rest of the gunky blood off his eyelids and when his blurry vision cleared, he was greeted by a bloody massacre. Everywhere around him; bodies of all sort, wounds riddling their bodies and limbs scattered beside them. Blood coated the entire sand, the crimson-red color stretched out across the entire beach. Some of them even had holes punctured through their faces. The inner flesh of their heads is fully exposed for the world to see. Piles of burnt corpses were sprinkled everywhere like little bonfires in the forest. The surface was ladened with deep craters and burnt metal, the acrid-black smoke billowing up into the air.
It may look like he just stumbled upon a deadly bloodbath. But alas, he was not yet the only person alive.
There are some more of his allies, including a few of his fellow brothers, but it's clear that they're losing. They struggled to defend themselves and one by one, they were taken down by the enemy's blades and bullets. People clad in black garments and white armor are pushing them back to the sea, throwing a strip of cylindrical objects that would explode upon contact. But what took his attention the most were the flying and thrusting chains that are being spun across the air like a spider web. The jangling links of metal would come out of nowhere and disappear in a blink of an eye.
At first, he was confused about what their purpose is. That's until he witnesses one of the chains puncture through one of the Russian mafia members right in the chest, breaking through his sternum and instantly killing him. The man dropped his gun and dropped to his knees, his face planting on the sand after the chain jerked out of his flesh. The lone waka gashira followed the metal rope back at its owner and once his eyes laid on the mountain of a man that loomed over almost every person on the beach, his legs gave up and his knees dug into the wet grains.
The bear-sized monster waged through rows of his kyodai, disregarding the number of bullets flying at him and the blades attempting but failing to wound him. The heavy chain-mail draped on his shoulders acted like it has a mind of its own, purposefully untangling links to block specific attacks in order for the man to continue to rip through flesh and steel like butter.
As more of his allies die before his eyes, fear finally gripped his heart and he was frozen in position. He turned around and the ship they arrived in has been demolished, pumping with a great inferno until the metal beast has been razed to the bottom of the sea. Even the incoming ships were already being attacked by explosives and they're barely managing to hold themselves from breaking apart. But they're still meters away from the shore. They wouldn't be able to reach him in time.
He looked back at the bloody scene; only a considerable amount of his allies remained and the numbers of his enemies are what occupied most of the beach, excluding the mutilated and burnt bodies. He watched as one of them, a blonde woman with frizzled golden locks, threw down her war axe at a kyodai, embedding the blade in his shoulder before yanking it away with a disgusting schlick. Impious blue eyes dancing back and forth at her axe and at the body laying on the sand until they flickered at the hunched form of the lone waka gashira.
Dropping the axe, she stalked towards him as casually as possible. A flash of fear appeared on the face of the man. He quickly searched for a blade around him but found none. He quickly realized that he'll die a dishonorable death. All hope seemed lost after she finally reached his spot and loomed over him, menacingly.
After wiping a few blood stains off her arm, the blonde produced a fresh pair of knives in front of the man. But instead of using it on him, she flipped it over and handed one to him. The Yakuza member's eyes widened, his gaze fixated on the knife with great appreciation.
Camilla knows that he knows that this is his end and that he could no longer live more than a minute in this battle. But she could at least honor his attempt to achieve his desire. Even though it was no tantō, a knife would still do him well and provide the proper use.
"Dōmo arigatōgozaimashita." The man bowed his head, while the blonde offered a small smile before turning around to leave him to his business. But he called her out once more for one final request. "Kaishaku to shite anata ga hitsuyōdesu!"
Camilla halted in her steps and turned back around. Her face contorted into a deep frown, thinking about his request before reluctantly agreeing. She would rather just not watch it, herself, but she already started it by giving him the chance. So she might as well finish it by helping him to the end. Fortunately for her, she spotted a sword in the hand of one of her fellow agents.
Regarding the fallen woman with a sad nod and a silent prayer for her journey to Valhalla, she 'borrowed' the blade from her and walked up to the Yakuza member's side. She has no idea why she's participating in a traditional Japanese ritual in a middle of a war with her enemy. Maybe it's because she's drawn towards this stuff and it astonishes her that there are still admirable people out there who are this honorable.
Maybe she'll have to answer a few questions from Astrid or even worse, Shatter. But something in her gut tells her that this is worth it.
She waited silently as the waka gashira slipped his coat and shirt off his shoulders to reveal his bare chest and abdomen. He carefully held the knife in his hand as if it was the most precious thing in the world before flipping it over and aiming it at his belly. Taking a quick breath, he took the first slice across his stomach. His face immediately contorted into one of agony but he suppressed for a while. He followed it with the second slice that allowed the knife to cut vertically through his abdomen.
Blood started to spill from his flesh but right before he placed the knife across his throat, Camilla brought down the sword in one clean stroke and the head fell down on the sand as the rich thick liquid began to trickle down the beheaded body of the waka gashira. Camilla silently offered a nod of respect before returning the sword to the owner. [3]
The battle lasted for more than an hour more before the last man that came from the amphibious warfare ship has been cut down. There are two more coming but they had at least defeated the first attack. Astrid cleaned the muck off of her axe by sliding it against her wrist guard, returning the blade to its shining glory. She turned towards the young woman sprawled on the sand. Sweat gleamed across her forehead and skin as she panted along to the rhythm of the waves.
"You okay there, Agnor?" She laughed quietly at the exhausted form of her student.
Lyra let out a long groan. "I don't know, ma'am. I lost ammo more times than I can count and I almost got my head sliced off. So, I don't really know how I should feel, ma'am." She replied through her heavy breaths.
"Well, you better recover faster because here comes the second and third ship," Astrid mentioned, her voice still muffled by the mask.
The recruit's head immediately perked up and sure enough, both warfare ships docked in the shore with a heavy slam. The former general turned and made eye contact with the rest of the officers. Each of them quickly understood the message without the use of words and all at once, their gazes shifted towards Shatter, who simply stared at the two ships with a glare.
"REGROUP NOW! PREPARE FOR THE NEXT WAVE!" He bellowed, his voice ringing across the entire beach with a thunderous roar. Nearly everyone flinched at the tone, excluding the silent Cutthroat who happens to be used to his voice after being his right-hand man for years. But once his words registered in their head, they quickly hurried to their positions.
Astrid locked optics with Lyra, who stared at her still confused. "Regroup?" She inquired.
"Yes, we have to move quickly or our formation will be ruined. Come on!" The blonde harshly pulled the recruit to her feet, almost dragging her by the fingers but Lyra managed to keep her body upright.
The rest of the agents began running towards the middle to huddle up when all of a sudden, a silent whiz pierced through the air, and an explosion rang across the night. A bubble of orange and red electricity surged from the crater and proceeded to encapsulate the area around it, vaporizing multiple agents into ashes after they failed to escape the explosion, including the patch of sand that they were standing on. All that remained is a giant, depressed crater.
Everyone froze in their steps as dread instantly filled the faces of Drakos. Some of their best agents had just been killed by a single caelectricae bubble[4]—a superficial energy source that Astrid recognized to be the latest discovery that came from Japan. But this is no time to be waddling around or staying still. Any moment now, another could spaz out of nowhere so they need to keep moving.
"Everyone! To the forest!" Shatter declared and everyone immediately scuttled away.
Unfortunately for them, the enemy wasn't done with them. More erupted from the earth and it seems that the projectiles came from the warfare ships. Twin-barreled turrets were stationed along from the stern of the ships, continuously launching caelectricae bombs that vaporized everything it touches in a 7-meter radius.
The agents are trying their best to dodge them but some aren't as lucky. Most of the time, the bubble would activate late, causing them to ignore the bomb, only for it to erupt at an untimely moment. Some would have their limbs cut off, leaving them there to bleed to death as they wailed in agony. Astrid forced herself to look away and keep her goal in front of her. Half of the division has already reached the forest but there's still a good amount who weren't able to even cross the beach.
Another caelectricae bubble erupted just a few feet away from the blonde, nearly burning through her student but she was able to yank her out of the way at the last second. "Keep your eyes forward, Agnor! We can't risk losing more of us!" Astrid yelled through the destructive noise.
From the side, another blonde leapt over a pile of bodies, just as another bomb blasted over the beach, ripping through flesh and sand into a billion particles. Blood coated half of her frizzy golden hair, some of it spilling over her face but she barely took notice of it. She ran up to Astrid and her recruit's side, avoiding caelectricae bubbles along with her as flames and smoke overtook the air.
Together, they dodged the last few explosions that were blocking their way. One erupted right in front of them, prompting them to abruptly halt in their steps and causing them to slide across the sand, barely missing the electrifying bubble.
"Holy shit!" Astrid exclaimed, pulling Lyra back once again before the surface of the conjoined electrical particles nearly zapped the recruit's face. After a short while, it disappeared in a flash of light, as well as most of the ground and anything that was consumed by it.
Finally, they were able to dive deep into the forest so that the turrets couldn't reach them. They passed through the colossal pine trees, grabbing onto their bark to keep their balance steady as they joined the rest of the division, all of who were exhausted to the core. Most of them had forgotten or were too preoccupied to grab the storage boxes so they were left with an inadequate amount of ammunition and weapons.
They've been pushed back to the point of near retreat. At this rate, they'll have to change to their backup plan much earlier than expected. They can hold another line down here but with their gear lacking, they wouldn't be able to defend this place for long and their enemies might end up wiping them all out altogether. They need to find another solution that would repel them enough for the agents to recover their equipment.
"How the hell is this happening?" Camilla cried out, earning her a shrug from an equally confused blonde.
"I don't know! The shield that Finn gave us should be able to block the projectiles. Something must've gone wrong!" Astrid replied between heavy breaths, taking her mask off to catch clearer air. "Someone needs to go out there. If the device malfunctioned, then we only have a matter of time before they figure out that they can bombard us and the city with artillery."
Camilla shook her head. "That's too dangerous. Didn't you see what just happened out there? You'll get vaporized the second you step on that beach!"
"I'm afraid I'll have to disagree with you there, Colonel Boggs." Shatter appeared in between them, alongside Cutthroat who had a nasty cut running down his neck. Due to the lack of medical supplies and more important priorities, he was left with a single self-sewn stitch that barely closed his wound.
Lyra looked back and forth between the two sides, feeling a bit overwhelmed when she's a mere recruit in the presence of the most important figures in Drakos. One of them seemed to be in disagreement with the chief, and she felt out of place in this conversation so she silently sneaked away to join the rest of the somewhat normal agents, people who she could at least resonate with.
Camilla kept her glare heavily on the large man, not even wavering a single bit when Cutthroat drew his knives out to defend his chief. "What are you talking about? That's your best agent you're sending to out there!"
"Which is exactly why I'm approving of her request as a volunteer. She knows her way around a fight and she has the highest possibility of returning." Shatter explained calmly. He knows how to defuse the wild blonde's ferocious personality, considering he's the one who convinced her to join Drakos in the first place.
The fierce blonde was about to argue once more but she felt Astrid place a comforting hand on her shoulder. She turned around and was met with a small smile from the former general. "It's going to be fine, Camilla. The other choice is to just wait everything out and let them catch us off-guard. Either way, I'll die. But this one would only cost mine and give you guys enough time." She tried to console her but Camilla just shook her head.
"But we can just call Dagur and counter with our artillery! Granted, we might not take out every ship in the fleet, but at least—"
"Camilla, I'm going out there whether you like it or not!" Astrid said with a much harder tone, quickly silencing the other blonde. "There are people depending on us and if we fail because of our personal feelings, then I'd rather die with them. So, we can talk about this later but for now, I need to go out there."
The ex-pirate wanted to say something else but the words got stuck in her tongue and she decided to reluctantly agree by giving a dejected nod. Even though she doesn't want her to risk her life, she can understand her actions. Ironically, an image of Night Fury, Hayden, just flashed in her mind and somehow, a humorless grin crept up her lips.
"Now I can see why you two became a couple. Both stubborn as hell." Camilla muttered with a breathy chuckle.
"What?"
"Nothing! Get the fuck out of here and save our asses, Buffy Summers!"
Astrid took off without a single second to waste, locking the mask back around the mouth and unclasping her axe from her back. She still has a lot of stamina and strength left in her container and if she's going to smash through whatever is waiting for her on the beach, she's going to need to go all out. She managed to acquire a few devices that would help her in the future and made her way through the thick forest.
She has no intention of dying in this battle. Albeit there may be a high chance that she may not survive, she would not just lay down and take the beating. Even if she has one limb left, she'll wiggle her way towards her goal and make sure that she'll achieve it. Plus, she still has a lot of unresolved tension with her daughter and even though the argument somehow ended on a positive note from Ezra's side, she needs to break whatever is obstructing their relationship. She also won't do her children dirty and make them orphans, especially her son, Noah, who she promised that she'll be there as he grows up.
As she finally reached the last few trees that would soon lead out to the beach, she was greeted by a warzone. Deep, burning craters were sprinkling all over the coast; hundreds, maybe thousands of bodies from both sides were scattered from the shore to the edge of the beach. Ashes, metal, and blood painted the sand, mixing the colors into something indescribable and gut-wrenching.
Standing in the middle of the battlefield is a fairly large army of people who she can only describe as Egyptian-influenced soldiers. From the ancient weapons to the exposing garments to the exquisite maquillage on their faces that resembled a lot of the traditional paintings of Ancient Egypt. There were groups of menacing people who she can't recognize, but she could tell that they weren't your standard run-of-the-mill gangsters. Judging from their appearance, she could decipher that they're seasoned veterans and fairly exposed to this type of environment. Some of them had already invaded the forest, scavenging through the forgotten gear and inspecting them.
The turrets on the ships are still active, but Astrid doubts that they would try to fire at her while most of their offensive force is occupying the entire beach. So she needs to devise a strategy that can take out enough of them and create a path for her to reach the device, all without giving a chance for the turrets to get a clear shot at her. They may not be willing to just rapid-fire a bunch of the caelectricae bombs, but if an opportunity arises, they're going to take it, whether or not it'll cost them their own men.
"Shit, I need to think this through." She thought out loud as she leaned behind the trunk of a pine tree, hoping that the enemy wouldn't sense or see her.
"Need any help?"
Astrid may or may have not let out a pathetic squeak upon hearing the sudden voice. Luckily, her battle instincts were able to cover her embarrassment by allowing her to swing her axe across the air out of reflex. She must've caught whoever that person was because as soon as her blade met a tiny bit of flesh, she heard someone mutter a curse, followed by a soft landing on the ground.
She whipped her head back to the forest. Spotting a hunched form blending into the darkness, Astrid instinctively gripped her axe as tightly as she can and shot a threatening glare at that person. "Who the hell are you?" She cried out in the softest voice she can possibly make in this heavy situation.
The dark shape soon stood to its full height and for a single inconsequential moment, Astrid felt intimidated but she quickly dismissed it, faster than it appeared. The profuse amount of leaves clumping over the trees were blocking some of the moonlight, hindering her from seeing his face. But as it grew closer, the tiniest bit of light peeked through the gaps and shined over the towering form of the stranger.
From the shoulders down, he relatively looks like a normal law-abiding citizen. From the expensive but dirtied duffel coat that perfectly fits him and emphasizes the actual size of the man. The coat hid whatever he wore on the inside but she managed to see a glimpse of camo in there. His pants were as black as the night sky, sprinkled with numerous pockets that are too many than what's normally required. Astrid noticed that his left leg is slightly bigger than the other, but she didn't look too much into it.
What really caught her eye though, was the carbon-fiber mask that hid his entire face from the world. From what she can see, it resembled a lot like a Viking helmet, but with a touch of modernity. Small, pointed spikes curved down on top of the mask, stopping by the eye slits that Astrid could barely see through—although she was able to see a small glimpse of green peeking out of the thin holes. The bottom half that covered the lower portion of his face was riddled with itty-bitty holes so the man could breathe.
As much as she wants to stay here and gape at the stranger's peculiarity, she has other things to do and this man could be an obstacle blocking her goal. "Showing up with a mask on doesn't answer my question, dipshit. Who the hell are you?" She asked once more.
What came was a muffled yet nasally voice through the thick mask. "Uh, let's just say I'm here to help you." He replied. It's obvious from his somewhat masculine and deep voice that he's a man.
The blonde narrowed her eyes, face contorting to one of derision. She couldn't believe the audacity of this unknown man, to just show up out of nowhere and expect her to accept his sudden proposition. If there's one lesson she remembered from her parents, it's that to never talk to strangers nor take any of what they're offering. Her dad also added that if possible, beat the shit out of said stranger.
"Don't need it."
"I'm pretty sure you will. There's a lot of them out there and if you're going to get through them, you can't do it alone." The man retorted, much to Astrid's disdain.
A scowl adorned her face as soon as the man realized what he just said. If he knew that, then that means he's been listening to their conversation back to where they retreated. As far as she know, that can only be a bad sign for this guy and the distrust only grew from Astrid's side.
"Have you been stalking us? Are you a spy?" Her hand tightened against the handle of her axe, nearly cracking through the dense wood.
The man rubbed the back of his neck, revealing his rather awkward side. "Uh, not exactly. Look, I'm just someone who wants to help. I want something from them as well and if we work together, we can both win."
That didn't do anything to ease Astrid's suspicion. In fact, it only added to that. She was growing more irritated, livid even, at each word she shared with the man. She couldn't just wrap her head around this bizarre situation. What could she do if a very odd stranger just offered to help her fight possibly hundreds of gangsters and soldiers? Of course, even if it would benefit her in this upcoming battle, she can't trust this man with her life.
"Yeah, no thanks." She scoffed scornfully." Listen, I don't know who you are, but if you don't leave right now, I'll bury this axe in your head."
"What's with women and violence lately?" The man muttered, but Astrid's trained ears managed to hear it and she's not very happy about that.
She thrust the head of her axe against the stranger's throat, who barely flinched at her threat but she didn't give a fuck. She has him trapped and whether he likes it or not, he's going to answer some questions. "First of all, I call it communication. Second of all, what makes you think I'm going to need your help?"
"Maybe because of our loud argument, we're attracting attention?" He suggested.
"What?"
Astrid turned around and just as he said, a group of these Egyptian-looking soldiers was inching towards them with their weapons out. They must've heard them but they still couldn't see them since they're not rushing towards them, swords ready to tear through flesh.
A groan escaped her lips. She knows that if this the only chance she has. If she fights them head-on, then it's surely going to attract more of them, and it'll be an all-out battle. But just like the man said, there's going to be a lot of them and she didn't really think this through to the end. As much as she hated to admit it, she's going to need this stranger's help. She's not sure if he'll be helpful in a fight or if he'll just talk some smack with these guys until they die out of irritation.
Astrid lowered her axe and with a sigh, she regarded him with a small glare before reluctantly facing towards the incoming group, purposefully showing her back to the stranger and indicating that she trusts him enough to keep his word. She'll be ashamed to walk down the road to Valhalla if she ever dies because of a stupid and ignorant move.
Fortunately, he didn't backstab her or anything. She did slightly wince when she heard the sound of a blade being sheathed out, but her nerves and doubts calmed down when she spotted him huddling near her, behind the tree. He held a curved katana in his hand, and judging by the few dried blood stains and chips on the blade, she could tell that this isn't his first time using it, causing her curiosity to grow larger and only making her wonder who he really is.
But there are more important things that need to be prioritized, especially the battle that's bound to come. She can ask questions later but she doesn't have one that she kind of needs to know.
"So, what do I call you? Any code name or something, my knight in shining armor?" She asked sarcastically, unexpectedly adding a little bit more sass than intended.
The man cleared his throat, his grip on his sword suddenly loosening for a second as he shuffled his feet nervously. "I- I don't know. I'm not really sure." He stuttered out. "I guess, you can call me Demon Killer or something?"
As soon as the words tumbled out of his mouth, he couldn't stop his hand from flying to his mouth, albeit it being covered by his mask. He doesn't know why he said it but it just so happens to be the first thing that popped in his head, other than his real name, which would be problematic. But he later realized that revealing that he's actually one of the most wanted vigilantes in the world, is not exactly the best thing to do.
He glanced at the blonde's face, expecting her to be outrageous or at least horrified. But all he got was a deadpan stare and a blank look in her eyes. The icy-cold fire burning that was once burning in the tundra in her eyes, has been completely extinguished. Maybe she's still processing it in her head, but her dead stare is making him uncomfortable at each passing second.
Then after a short while, she exploded.
"What?! Don't just drop a bomb on me out of nowhere! Don't just leave a fucking cliffhanger there like I'm supposed to figure what happens next. Oh, my fucking—"
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[1] First lieutenant in the Yakuza
[2] loosely translates to big brother, which is just a rank below the lieutenants.
[3] I know a few things about seppuku, or hara kiri if you're more familiar with that term. I believe there are two versions where the seppukunin would carve a cross on his abdomen before slitting his throat and there's another where a guy would behead the seppukunin after the seppukunin stabs himself. The first one is supposed to be the honorable one and the second is the capital punishment thingy. But I wanted to merge those two together to bring some more depth to Camilla's character.
[4] Basically translates to space electricity. I made the word from the Latin of space and electricity; caelus and electricae. Uncreative, I know.