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"The death of one man is a tragedy. The death of one million is a statistic."
~Joseph Stalin
Chapter Seven: Lost and Abandoned
"I don't like this place." Carlos Mendoza kept his rifle up, scanning carefully with every step he took into the shelled-out, savaged, dust-coated ruin of Novosibirsk. "A million and a half people used to live in this city." He eyed a broken-up department store. "Now it's a ghost town."
"Maybe not entirely." David White hefted his machinegun. "Stay close, rookie. We're not far from the rendezvous point."
"Yeah." Carlos inhaled the scent of rotten meat and broken sewage lines, with a subtle under-odor he couldn't entirely place. Fermented pickles? Honey? Something sickly sweet that made his stomach churn. "Liang had the right idea with that head wrap."
"Maybe we should have worn gas masks." White didn't look entirely comfortable either. "We don't have a medkit with us."
They advanced in silence after that, shining the flashlights taped to the sides of their weapons on anything that moved. Without fail, it was floating refuse and shifting dust: nothing more, and nothing less.
"Is there anything alive in this city?" Carlos wondered, as they rounded the next bend. He paused.
"There has to be," White muttered, as they came up on a campfire and roasting spit, with... "That's..."
"That's a chryssalid head." Carlos lowered his gun, staring. "Someone's roasting a chryssalid's head on a spit."
"If it smells good, there's plenty more."
Carlos spun, taking direct aim at a cloaked, masked figure who clambered into view from behind a blockage of rubble. Her mask's eyes glowed yellow, and for a moment all the rookie could think of was an Advent MEC.
"I believe that would be Outrider, the Reaper contact," Central told the pair. That was good. It kept Carlos from shooting her and taking his chances later.
"You are safe here," this Outrider said, removing her mask. Carlos sighed in relief when he saw legitimate human features, even if they were harsh eyes and cold lips. "Safer than you realize."
"Oh, fuck," White muttered, as close to a dozen more Reapers appeared out of nowhere. He did lower his machinegun. "How did you do that?"
"XCOM merely adopted the dark. Reapers were born in it; molded by it." Outrider jumped lightly down from her perch.
"I'm guessing you find the light nothing but blinding?" Central quipped. Carlos blinked.
"I don't get it either," White assured him, when the rookie glanced over for help.
"You two are hopeless."
A scream echoed through the streets, rippling and guttural. Carlos whirled, hunting for its source as it rebounded off of buildings left and right, tearing up from the alleys and filling his ears.
"What the hell was that?" White demanded, gun back up. "Advent?"
"Worse." Outrider replaced her mask. "We need to move, and quickly. My people will take care of this camp."
"Right." White fell into step behind her, as she brazenly sauntered off without consulting her escort. "Mendoza, take the right side."
"Of course." Carlos did, and if he held his gun a little tightly, well...who could blame him?
"Stay low," Central advised. "We're picking up life signs ahead."
"The Lost, I imagine." Outrider slipped her rifle into hand, checking the bolt. "Stay close."
"Lost?" White asked.
"People. Or at least, they once were. They've been in these ruined places too long, exposed to the aliens' chemical pods." Carlos paused when the Australian shot him a disbelieving look. "What? There are ruined cities in Mexico. Everyone knows about Tijuana-"
Something screeched, and Carlos jumped as it vaulted from the shadows. His rifle came up, and bullets tore through the creature's head, blowing molting flesh and melting brains out in an acid spray.
"Fuck!" Carlos hit the ground hard as the second Lost he hadn't seen jumped him from behind. He scrambled for his gun as it lunged his way-
Crack!
The thing collapsed. Carlos looked up, and there was Outrider, poised on a broken-down car, rifle smoking. The rookie seized his gun.
"What the hell-"
"There are more of them!" White's machinegun erupted, and bullets tore up the ancient, run-down street ahead. Carlos used a half-broken fire hydrant for support, grabbing his gun and rushing over to the nearest building corner for cover.
"They are drawn to the sounds of conflict!" Outrider warned, before her rifle cracked two more times. Carlos risked a glance, and he choked when he saw dozens of shambling bodies streaming down the roadway, shouting and snarling and howling, running on two limbs or four, spitting green and coming apart in showers of lime whenever White or Outrider's shots eviscerated them.
"Dios mio!" Carlos fired, and his first burst drilled into the base of a dashing Lost's throat. It tumbled, and he selected his next target, feeling the recoil as the rifle did its best to knock him over.
"Aim for the heads!" Outrider called, before diving off her car. Two of the things scrambled after her, swinging wildly, and she blocked with her rifle, twisting one around until she could dispatch it with a shot through the jaw. The other loomed behind her-
Bang! Carlos spent his last three bullets on a little burst between its eyes, and the thing collapsed. Outrider glanced, but Carlos promptly forgot about her, scrambling for his next mag.
"Reloading!" he called, as White's cannon continued to blare. He hit the magazine release, kicked the old one aside, slammed the new into place-
"I'm out!" White ducked behind his car. "They're still coming!"
"Keep shooting!" Outrider called. Her rifle cracked in the dusky overcast light. "They are weakening!"
"Right. Let's see how you like this!" Carlos reached to his belt, and he pulled out his frag grenade. He ripped the pin free and held on for just a second, timing his throw until the Lost were a little closer.
"Don't!" Outrider cried, as Carlos hurled the explosive. It rolled under the Lost's feet, and an instant later-
Boom!
"Gotcha!" Carlos cried, as all but one of the swarm blew apart from the impact, limbs and bone fragments flying in all directions. Smoke rose, and the stink of charred flesh invaded his nostrils. "That one's from Sonora!"
"You idiot!" Outrider's rifle cracked, and the last of the Lost fell with a bullet in its eye. The Reaper loomed over Carlos, and he blinked.
"Idiot? I just saved all our lives-"
"They're attracted to-"
That shriek echoed again. It rang through the streets, and Carlos' blood ran cold as he realized how much louder it was, how much closer.
"...they're attracted to explosions," he finished, clutching his gun.
"Yes." Outrider checked hers. "Every Lost within a dozen city blocks is now going to converge directly on our position."
The girls walked in silence. Clad in black from head to toe, Da-Xia Liang didn't seem like a wild conversation partner, and Jane Kelly didn't like the look of this burned-out, shelled-out, looted, broken, abandoned ruin. Everything was gray and tan and dusty and savage, and her and Liang's footfalls were the only noise in the stillness.
"Team Two, this is Command." That wasn't Central's voice, but the raspy growl of the man who was supposed to save them all. "Team One is encountering significant resistance en route to the meeting place. Your contact should be just ahead."
"Roger that, sir." Jane bit the acknowledgment off, but left it at that. Maybe the Commander had just had a bad day, back in Africa? Maybe he really was as good as Bradford claimed.
Boom!
"What the fuck!" Jane dove behind a truck, gratified to see Liang mirroring her at the corner just across the sidewalk. Black smoke vomited up from the next alley over, and the sound of echoing gunfire.
"Team Two, advance with caution!" Commander Gallant ordered. "Find out what the hell's going on in there!"
"Yes, sir." Jane moved out of cover, shotgun raised. "Liang, I'm going-"
An orange clad Advent soldier burst from the smoke. Jane almost shot him, but before she could bring her gun up, a line snaked from darkness and wrapped around his throat. The soldier could only scream as he was hauled back into the shadows.
"What the hell was that?" Liang demanded. Only her eyes were visible between her ninja wrappings, but they were full of shock and fear. "Corporal?"
"I don't have a clue," Jane admitted. She advanced, gun leveled. "Let's find out."
"You have nothing to fear." Jane would have felt a lot better if the speaker hadn't visibly been...been...
"You're Advent," she accused of the white-armored soldier kneeling, helmetless, before the orange-clad one. Orange lay in a daze against a dumpster, while the white one examined him.
"I am a Skirmisher. My name is Pratal Mox."
"Mox?" That was Central. "That's your contact, Team Two."
"Right." Jane lowered her shotgun, but mostly for form's sake. She kept her finger on the trigger.
"They were sent to purge the Drak-ten. The Lost." Mox examined the body over which he knelt, then drew back his arm and drove the two blades protruding past his wrist into the thing's jaw from below. It shook and choked, but in a flash the Skirmisher finished his work, and when he drew his yellow-stained blades free, there was no life left in his victim. "She is now free of the false gods' influence. Would that I could say the same of all my kind."
"Hopefully today helps with that," Liang said. "We need to move, Mox."
"A wise statement." Mox reclaimed his helmet from the ground, and in an instant he placed it back atop his head. "Lead the way."
"I will." Jane hoped Liang would keep an eye on the Skirmisher from the rear. Every minute she left her back turned to him...
"Your route to the meeting place is directly ahead," Gallant advised, before coughing. "Proceed with caution."
"Fuck!" Carlos stumbled, barely keeping his footing. "Stupid fucking potholes-"
"Mendoza!" White paused at the end of the street ahead. "Catch up, slowpoke!"
"Our route goes directly through this shop," Outrider said. She paused, then took aim right at Carlos. "Lost, behind you!"
"Damn it!" Carlos threw himself flat, and then the Reaper opened fire. White joined in an instant later, and the rookie could only roll behind the nearest dilapidated car, leaning out with rifle at the ready. He counted as quickly as he could...until he lost count.
"We've got a fuckton of Lost coming in!" he cried, before backpedaling for his companions. "Cover me!"
"Move! Move!" White's machinegun roared, and heavy bullets tore the Lost to shreds. Outrider's unusual bolt-action rifle barked much less frequently, but every shot was a kill, so Carlos supposed that was all right.
"Okay!" He scrambled into position at White's flank, then did some shooting of his own, thankful for that time with Liang on the range. Lost tumbled and collapsed, but the rest merely marched over the corpses of their fellows, pushing and shoving to be the first into contact with the XCOM team. He went through an entire magazine that way, and the horde showed little sign of stopping.
"I'll lock them down!" White promised, pausing to reload as soon as Carlos was back in action. "Mendoza, take Outrider and secure the goddamn shop!"
"On it!" Carlos backpedaled, keeping the Lost engaged until White could bring his cannon back up. It whirled and then roared, spitting fire and lead, and Carlos could eject his empty mag and race for the shopfront, listening to the constant cracking of Outrider's rifle while she followed.
"Breaching!" Carlos kicked the door off its hinges, and then he swept through some kind of clothing store, littered with fallen mannequins and old, moth-eaten clothes that had never been properly inventoried. He kicked a few ladies' shoes aside, swallowing as the half-light outside fell to a more serious dark, illuminated only by his rifle's flashlight. "Outrider?"
Crack! Something whizzed by Carlos' head, and then something else screamed. He whirled, and-
"Lost!" Carlos opened fire, and his bullets chewed into the pack that had...had they been waiting inside? Was this a trap? "A half-dozen of them!"
Crack! Bang-bang-bang! Crack! His gun and Outrider's both rang in the gloom, and blood and rotten flesh sprayed. Carlos was sure he was shooting mannequins as well as actual Lost, but if he got all of them, he was fine with wasting some ammunition-
Wham!
"Damn it!" Carlos staggered, clutching his cheek. His rifle clattered into the gloom, and then the Lost who had bashed its head into his lunged. On reflex, Carlos gave it a right hook straight out of the Resistance Haven boxing rings, and the thing stumbled a pace left. Emboldened and wild, Carlos lunged, bashing the Lost's cheek with a vicious cross that drove it to its knees.
"Hijo de puta!" Carlos punctuated that by stomping his heel down on the creature's skull. It crashed to the floor, shrieking like an animal and trying to rise, limbs flailing. Carlos kicked it again, then grabbed a chair and brought it over and down, smashing the old thing to splinters. While the creature struggled to rise, he took a deliberate step back, sweeping up his gun.
Bang!
"The building is clear," Outrider reported, as Carlos sucked in breath, shaking. "Mister White?"
"Could use some-"
"David!" Carlos cried, as the man screamed. He darted back to the front façade of the building, and he snapped his rifle up as he saw the big Australian bashing away with his gun at a half-dozen Lost tearing and biting at him. The rookie swore.
"If I shoot them, I might hit him," he cried.
"Then shoot carefully." Outrider took aim, and her gun roared. Carlos swallowed, setting his eye to the much cruder, much less accurate sight atop his rifle.
There were still dozens of the creatures pouring down the street. Every second White was caught up fighting was a second they got closer...
Carlos prayed for the first time in years, as he lined up his shot and squeezed the trigger.
"No contacts so far, Central," Jane said, as she hurried through the savaged streets. "We're inbound on the meeting point with Mox in tow. ETA six minutes."
"Roger that, Team Two. Team One is heavily engaged, so you might have to pull their chestnuts out of the fire."
"The Lost are of little concern," Mox said. "If we must rescue the others, so be it. It is these Reapers of yours that I worry about."
"I imagine the feeling's mutual," Jane muttered.
"Wait!" Liang held up a hand. "I hear something. Screaming, gunfire."
"That would be Team One-"
"No. It's coming from..." The rookie hurried to the lead. "It sounds more like..."
"Don't get too far ahead!" Jane picked up the pace, catching Liang's arm. "Hey. I'm in the lead, you're in the back, damn it." She swallowed as she realized she'd left both their backs turned to Mox. "You have to cover me."
"Sorry!" Liang swallowed. "It just sounds like-"
"It sounds like Advent." Mox casually strolled past the two, checking his bullpup carbine. "It's coming from directly ahead." He leaned out from the corner. "...we have made contact with the enemy."
"What?" Jane abandoned Liang, scurrying up to the Skirmisher's position. "We have..." She broke off. "Oh.
"There must be..." Liang trailed off. "There must be dozens of them!"
That was a conservative estimate, Jane thought: it looked more like a hundred Advent soldiers, mostly those orange-armored ones stiffened with red officers, but with the occasional trooper sown in. Flames shot out on all sides, because the oranges held flamethrowers in hand, and spat hot tongues of elemental hate at the swarms of Lost converging on them from all sides. Trucks full of fuel and ammunition supported the infantry, and Jane saw at least a half-dozen hostiles hurrying to sweep new equipment from the vehicles, or plug their flamethrowers in for refueling.
"That's a whole army of them," Central swore. Jane swallowed.
"How the hell-"
"Yes, it is. And it is one we do not have time to face." Mox raised his bullpup.
"What are you doing?" Jane demanded, in the moment before he fired. The carbine barked, and an instant later-
"Clearing a path." Mox watched as one of the flame-throwing Advent soldiers' packs burst open, the venting jet stream hurling him into one of the fuel trucks. Jane barely had time for her eyes to widen.
"Get down!" she cried, tackling Liang. Both women slammed hard on the pavement, covering their heads in the instant before-
"What the fuck?" Carlos demanded, as the earth abruptly shook. Buildings rumbled, glass shattered, Lost tumbled by the dozens onto their hands and knees, and somewhere a car alarm went off. He nearly dropped his gun, crashing to his knees as the rumble filled the world, and a massive plume of dark smoke rose like a bonfire down south, vomiting skyward with sparks and flame enveloped in its choking embrace. Dust scattered and flew, and after a minute Carlos thought he tasted ash.
"Keep firing!" Outrider followed her own advice with gusto, emptying her next magazine directly into the stunned horde. White's machinegun roared, and even bloodied and battered like he was, he made a good showing of himself, ripping a half-dozen of the filthy creatures to shreds in as many seconds.
"Come on!" Carlos fired, covering the Australian as his magazine ran dry. White didn't bother to reload, instead sprinting for cover, bent low as Carlos' and Outrider's bullets shot over and past him. The Lost managed to rise, and Carlos quickly ran through what was left of his mag, swearing as the rifle inevitably clicked empty.
"Reloading!" he called, scrambling for the magazine release. White worked with his cannon, and for a moment, only Outrider's rifle spoke.
Until she, too, had to pause to slip new cartridges into place.
"Wait!" she cried, as Carlos rose. He almost fired anyway, but hesitated when he saw...
"They're leaving." He frowned, watching the remaining Lost turning and scrambling off into the streets. "Running away. Did we scare them?"
"No." Outrider lowered her gun. "They're heading for the blast point. They've forgotten all about us now: the Lost only care about the most recent thing to assault their senses."
"Right." White grimaced, clutching the bloody wound on his neck. "We should get moving, then. Meeting place isn't far away."
"Hopefully Team Two makes it in once piece," Carlos muttered.
"I hope your soldiers are all right," Outrider agreed. "Though I will shed no tears for this Skirmisher of yours if he comes to harm."
Carlos sighed. "I'm looking forward to this meeting already."
"Holy shit...holy shit..." Jane got her knees under her, glaring up at Mox. "Are you out of your goddamn mind?"
"We did not have time to engage that force. I eliminated an obstacle."
"Unfortunately, that was the way to the meeting-place," Central chimed in. "And-"
A shriek. A blood-curdling, bone-chilling shriek ran through the air, and Jane hesitated only long enough to pull Liang to her feet before raising her shotgun.
"What's that?" she demanded.
"The Drak-ten." Mox didn't sound concerned. "They are attracted to the noise of battle. Explosions especially."
"And you just blew up a fuel truck?" Central cried.
"Find us a way out of here!" Jane ordered. "We'll circle the wagons around...around..." She picked out a low wall and archway, well suited with the fire to cover their backs and wrecked vehicles for cover on the main street. "Around that archway!"
"It's going to take a minute," Central warned.
"You will have your minute." Mox turned for the arch. "Come. The Drak-ten will not be far."
"If we die..." Jane glared murder at the back of the alien's head.
"What will you do?" He still didn't sound concerned.
"Contact!" Liang shouted. She fired, and the rattling pops of her rifle in the stillness were thunder. "A lot of contacts!"
"Where?" Jane spun. A moment later, her shotgun roared. "I see them! Dead ahead!" And see them she did: not just a handful of Lost, but a massive swarm, coming in by the dozens or hundreds with wild shrieks of energy. Their limbs dangled and their jaws hung open, and green pustules grew out of their shoulders and cheeks and hairless heads. In this state, it was impossible to tell if they were male or female, and at that moment Jane didn't really care.
Brap-brap-brap! Mox' bullpup joined the fray, and he switched targets impossibly quick, ripping through what Lost Liang missed. Jane gritted her teeth.
Boom! Clickity-boom! Her shotgun sprayed buckshot into the throng, and multiple Lost went down per hit. Limbs flew, and pale green blood and pus blasted the successive waves of one-time human beings, pasting over their faces like warpaint.
"Team Two, we found a way out," Commander Gallant chimed in, tone somewhere between snarl and howl. "Straight past the swarm, there's a wrecked bus. Get overtop of it and they can't follow!"
"Straight through the..." Jane howled as her magazine ran dry, and she ducked behind the low wall, scrambling to stick new rounds in the chamber. "Are you out of your fucking mind, Commander?"
"If it is the only way, so be it." Mox seemed awfully detached, considering this was his bloody mess. Jane debated "accidentally" putting buckshot between his shoulder blades. Regretfully, she decided that she and Liang needed his firepower if they wanted to have a prayer of survival.
But I'm taking that bastard into a ring when we're out of this, she swore. I'll beat the fuck out of him.
"Mox, Liang, I'll take point!" Jane rose. "Cover me until I make the halfway mark...that alien canister, there! Then you move up by ones!"
"It will be done!" Mox ordered. He reloaded with the ease of ten thousand hours' training. "You're covered, Jane Kelly. Go!"
She wasn't going to thank him. Instead, Jane took a breath and tried to channel Irina, or James. They'd died like heroes for their friends, hadn't they?
Despite every shrieking instinct in her body, Jane rose, gun at the ready, and bolted straight into the crowd of shambling Lost.
Boom! Smoke wafted from her gun muzzle as she worked the pump, gritting her teeth as more Lost tumbled, hit by bullpup or rifle rounds. Jane based one's head in passing with her gun butt, and his skull cracked from the hit, which was more than enough for her. She dropped and slid between another's legs, and as he turned, Liang's fire ripped him apart.
Boom! The shotgun spoke its mind in anger, and Jane's dash became something slower as she approached her mark. She brought the gun to eye level, and now instead of firing from the hip she took far more careful aim. Clickity-boom! Clickity-boom!
"Here!" she finally cried, as her foot tapped the alien canister. Jane turned, risking being overwhelmed from ahead to pump her remaining shots into the swarm behind her, blowing a half-dozen Lost down in three times as many pieces. Her arms shook from constant recoil, and her legs from something else altogether, though she tried to reload as smoothly as possible. The instant her gun was ready, she waved. "Come on!"
Boom! Clickity-boom! As Lost tried to surge around the canister, Jane's fire kept them at bay. They rose like a tide, slamming into her rock with force, repelled each time. Three waves charged, and each one eventually came to a halt as flying shotgun pellets literally reduced it to splattered gore and shattered bone dust painting the pavement.
"I'm out!" Jane warned, grabbing for her belt. She slid cartridges into place, teeth set.
"Forward!" Mox ran to her...and then past her, bullpup roaring. Liang was only a heartbeat behind him, clapping Jane on the shoulder before she took off in their suicidal mark's wake. The Irishwoman took a deep, steadying breath.
Then she lunged, and three guns blared, literally blasting a path through the ranks of shamblers ahead.
"There's the bus!" Liang called. She pointed to the thing, lying on its side with the roof facing down the road. "There's a trash can. We can jump from there onto its top side-"
"Do it!" Jane ground to a halt in the roadway, turning to empty her magazine the time-tested way. Mox' bullpup picked up as she fell silent, and again she was reloading. "Mox, you're next!"
"We will cover your escape," the Skirmisher promised. Jane leveled her shotgun, taking aim at the oncoming rush.
"I'm up!" Liang cried. Her rifle banged away, and several of Jane's closer foes tumbled. "Come on!"
"Go!" Jane fired, and heavy buckshot scoured the enemy. Lost rushed past her, but her and Liang's lead was enough to slow the horde. Jane spared one glance for Pratal Mox, and she was both relieved and annoyed to see him prance lightly from the trash can to the topside of the bus, rolling to his feet and opening fire without hesitation.
"Corporal!" Liang cried. "Come on!"
"I'm-" Clickity-boom! Clickity-boom! "-coming!" Jane turned for the bus, not even bothering to reload as she heard hot, heavy Lost breaths and footsteps behind her in a mighty rush-
One of them was alive, at the base of the bus. Liang had shot it, but it wasn't dead yet, and Jane actually thought it smiled at her...in the instant before it kicked the trash can over.
"No!" Liang cried, before putting another bullet into the thing. Jane ground to a halt.
"Fuck. Fuck, fuck..." She looked around, but there was nothing: no convenient rope, no ladder, no springboard or catapult...
"Take my hand!" Liang leaned down while Mox continued firing, and Jane sprinted for her. She reached up, standing on tip-toe with her fingers mere inches from the rookie's. Liang nodded. "Jump! I'll catch you!"
"Right!" Jane bent her knees. "I'm coming-"
She screamed as hands caught her sword - her sword, the useless deadweight itself! Jane flailed, lashing out with elbows and feet, trying to swing her shotgun around like a club to break the thing's hold. Liang screamed her name, but then she seized her gun, and bullets lanced into the Lost crowd.
"Get off it!" Jane did manage to shake the Lost's hold after a bullet caught it between the eyes, but then her back pressed into the bus' roof, and she scrambled to fit ammunition in her shotgun. The swarm loomed, like sharks smelling blood.
Boom! Finally, ammunition! Clickity-boom! Clickity-boom!
It wasn't enough. Nothing would be enough, not at this distance. Jane's knees knocked and her eyes widened as they came, in an onrushing unstoppable tide. Liang's fire weakened them and Jane's shotgun stalled them, but she only had so many rounds, and they were endless.
"Corporal." Mox landed beside her, bullpup forgotten on the bus. Jane spared him a shocked look.
"No! You've got to get to the meeting-place-"
"And so do you. Please remain calm."
"Remain calm?" Jane shrieked. "Remain fucking calm? What the fuck about now says it's the fucking time to remain fucking calm-" She broke off as he wrapped an arm around her waist. "What the fuck are you doing-"
Bang! That wasn't a rifle's detonation. It was deeper, louder...and it came from Mox' arm. Something lanced out and up, and Jane heard Liang yelp.
Then yelp was a soft word for what she did when Mox flew up, using his feet to bounce off the bus' roof.
Thud! Jane's cry turned into a hemorrhaging gasp when she hit metal on her back, and she coughed, choking for breath. Mox loomed over her, and he tilted his helmeted head.
"Do you require assistance, Corporal?"
"I...I..." Jane rolled onto her side, grabbing for her shotgun. "The Lost-"
"Are safely below us. They will forget what they are chasing by the time they can muster the force to move this bus or the creativity to assemble a ladder."
"What did you do?" Jane asked. Mox chuckled.
"My suit comes with a grapnel launcher, Corporal. It is a highly useful tool." The Skirmisher offered his hand. "You are welcome."
"I...I..." Jane swallowed...then took his hand. "Thank you."
"It is what soldiers do for each other." Mox reclaimed his bullpup.
"Outrider and Team One should be waiting for you ahead," Central chimed in, a bit subdued. "I know this wasn't the easiest op, but I have to believe it'll still be worth it in the end."
Mox scoffed. "That depends on the Reapers."
Author's Note 7: The Living Dead
Forewarning: I do not like zombies. They annoy me, they're not particularly threatening, and the logic of a zombie's functionality or a zombie apocalypse just falls apart more and more the more you really think about it. On the flip side, they were fun to play against in XCOM 2, and I've used them before in some of my other works.
And can I just say that Skirmishers are amazing? I like them the best of all three new classes(I admit this freely!), though that's not dissing Reapers or Templars. I've played extensively with the former and some with the latter as of the time of this writing, and though they're really enjoyable, my playstyle is highly mobile and aggressive...which happen to be a Skirmisher's two main strengths. Plus, they're just cool.
Next chapter might drop late or early. It's supposed to drop on October 11, however I will be flying out to Hawaii for my honeymoon on the 10th. I appreciate your patience as I do my best to adhere to my regular update schedule despite being out of state. If I can't manage to, I'll drop chapters Eight(Oct 11), Nine(Oct 14) and Ten(Oct 18) when I return on the 18th, all in a block. Hopefully this won't be necessary, but it is the backup plan, so please understand if I'm late updating.
Last comment: by this point, I should have finished assembly work on "Season One" of Vigilo Confido offline, or at least be very close(I want it done before I fly out). I'm putting this here to keep me honest about knocking out the last few chapters(I'm working on 16/25 as of the time of this writing). I'll talk more about the seasons and scheduling later.
Until next time, Vigilo Confido.