Chapter 8 - Tooth And Nail

So here I am, back outside the main hall where our last fistfight happened, crouched down behind the catwalk's metal railings with my knife spear leaning against it. Tartar sat cross-legged behind me, and was busy searching for threats on the mini-part with his chest-integrated bodycam, which he detached and swept in an arc over the railings. Even though I felt antsy again, and my companion was already doing reconnaissance for us, I still dared not to grab some chewing gums. My encounter with the giant fish man just now has taught me that situations can always escalate for the worse even when you least expect it, and being ready for these developments at all times is a must. Being elbows-deep inside my backpack, or having its content strewn all over the ground isn't a good idea.

But I need my emotional-support munchies tho…

No, Brad. Have discipline.

You won't keel over and die right now without them. How about you be productive instead?

Like checking up on Tartar's progress, for example.

"Pssst… Hey, Tartar!" I whispered cautiously, eyes still glued to the floor below despite being barely able to make out a thing in the dark.

"Yes sir?" The old AI asked without turning back, still dead focused on doing recon. So dedicated to his assigned work, this guy. Maybe I could learn a thing or two from him.

But that's a millennial-old artificial intelligence with infinite patience and no concept of fatigue though? - That one tiny voice at the back of my head continued to whine.

Man shut yo-

Anyway… "Anything interesting happened down there yet?" I asked the A.M.C.U.

"No, sir. I have yet to see any Humanoids, so far." He responded, "Although, our guests sure have made quite a mess of the hall below. I'm seeing large piles of fishmen carcasses around the mini-park, about 60 of them approximately. There are also about 6 foreign bio-signatures in the mix, but they are faint and mostly located near the entrance hallway."

"Oh yeah, that's definitely their work. The foreign signatures most likely belongs to the tank-tacles I have killed." And one female humanoid who was the cause of all these ruckus, also.

"How about inside that room? Did you see any signature in there?" I pointed at the place where I beat down the male humanoid earlier.

"I'm detecting none, sir." So that means he probably survived, and got evac'd outside. Lucky bastard. But I probably crippled him enough to be out of combat, so that won't be a plus one for us to deal with.

But why am I feeling a bit relieved for the guy though?

"Alright then. So how are we going to do this…" I asked, quickly pushing the thought to the back of my head. "Tartar, lemme see your cam for a sec."

He responded with a curt "Yes sir", then brought up the blue holo-screen on his chest, showing the full view of the area below. The first thing I noticed was the lack of Humanoid ink and fishmen green grease around the place, but decided against questioning it and focused on the matter at hand.

"So… are we going to do this the "duck-hunting" way or what? I provide suppressing fire from the second floor to pin them in cover, you run over and chop them up where they hide?" I paused, conflicted. "Or I sneak to the cryo-hall, and you stay to draw their attention? I mean, you are pretty much immune to their munitions." To be honest, right now I really don't have much resources or maneuvering space for an alternative plan. And me suddenly deciding to hide up here, instead of bolting as soon as Tartar has confirmed downstairs to be safe has wasted my limited time even more. But before I could decide on which plan to go with, bright lights suddenly flashed on the holo-screen that snapped my attention back to it.

Flashlight beams

"Sir! Living bio-signatures inside the main entrance!" Tartar notified, with no small amount of urgency in his voice. I promptly ignored him, instead grabbing my spear and pulling out the teslabolt from my pocket.

"Oh shit! They're back already." Oh come on! I haven't even got a proper strategy yet! Just need a bit more time!

"We - uh… Go with plan A! Get down there, and hide behind a pillar or something! Gunshot is the signal. Keep my comm channel open, alright?" I tapped my helmet's built-in radio and waved Tartar off.

The A.M.C.U nodded and jogged down the stairs behind me with haste. As soon as he disappeared around the corner, I quietly repositioned myself to a more favorable spot, my whole body shaking from adrenaline and my ear tingling from the sound of my pumping blood.

Inhale…

… Exhale. Alright.

Calm down. I've been through this already. There's no use in panicking. The dice has already been rolled, and I can't back down anyway. Just roll with it.

After flexing my muscles and cracking my knuckles, I aimed down my taser's makeshift sight while keeping an eye on my AI companion below, who was swiftly sneaking his way around the mini park toward the light sources. And my God, that robot knows how to stealth! Despite being 3 meters tall and weighing roughly 1700 pounds, the machine barely made any sound when he walked. In fact, the only indication that Tartar's even there was the slight metallic glint of his broadsword, and the barely-visible reflection of his eye-lenses. He has turned, from a 3-meters full-metal construct that can put the Incredible Hulk to shame, to Hollywood's movie depiction of ninja assassins back in the 2010s. Now I've realized just how horrifying it was to be an enemy soldier stationed at wherever these SA units got deployed to.

Those interviewed survivors on the news weren't faking stories at all.

The Humanoids and their last two abominations finally entered the hall, shining their torches in all directions and almost flashbanging me in the process. They have already moved into the mini-park, and were trying to do something with one of its stone benches at the moment, most likely trying to haul it somewhere. I couldn't really tell, because two of the Humanoids and a tank-tacle were standing right in front of the bench, obstructing my line of sight.

"Alright, you ready?" I spoke into my mic, lining up my sight on the short-haired humanoid of the group, who I immediately recognized as the one that got her tentacles blasted off earlier. This is the perfect range for another headshot, one that she won't be able to dumb-luck her way from again. And I am confident that I can drop two more Humanoids, probably along with their tank-tacles before anyone could have the chance to react. The last two, I can leave for Tartar to "meat".

"Yes sir. I am in position." He confirmed, and I could vaguely see the dark rectangular silhouette of his head, poking out behind one of the supporting pillars to the group's far left.

"Alright." I said after taking a deep breath, "Standby for signal." I could visibly see the A.M.C.U perk up from his spot, and was about to pull the trigger when I noticed something odd.

"Hold on a minute..." I whispered, squinting my eyes at the group.

The Humanoids no longer seem like the disciplined and eager bunch that was out for my blood hours ago. They didn't move in any particular formation, nor give off the air of crisp caution and readiness in their motion anymore. Now, these Humanoids just look tired and demoralized, their faces filled with fatigues and their weapons held limply by their sides. One smacked her forehead several times while grunting in their shrill Chinese-like language, before continuing to work like nothing ever happened. The tank-tacles however, are just as unfazed as when I last saw them - I doubt those things are even capable of emotions at all.

"What's going on, sir? Are you alright up there?", came the warm but worried voice of Tartar from my helmet's headset.

"... It's nothing. Standby for signal."

But then, the two Humanoids that were facing their backs to me suddenly parted way, and I quickly noticed that both were wearing some sort of gray and red medical gloves. What they all were doing with, or rather on the bench was finally revealed.

"Oh..." I muttered.

There, laying face-up on the broken park bench was who appeared to be the humanoid male who I'd beaten up earlier in that room. "Appeared to be'', because his relatively intact hairstyle is the only defining trait that let me know it was him. Every other part of his body was completely covered with dark-brown bandages, to the point of making him look like some Egyptian mummy that was recently dug from the grave. His limbs were secured in place with thin metal splints, and there was also a bottle of IV drip connected to his right shoulder, held by one of his team members. His two gloves caretakers were in the process of replacing the dirty bandages around his left leg with new ones, causing him to twitch and moan whenever a layer was stripped off. The guy was in a lot of pain, it seemed. And I am the culprit of that.

No! I ain't no bad guy. He tried to take my life, so I have all the rights to defend myself! It was his doing, period.

But still, do I even want to kill these people anymore? These Humanoids were not even hunting me down or making any attempt to damage the facility. They were just trying to save one of their own.

I am no stranger to fighting for my own survival, and not the type to hesitate to shed blood in the name of it. But still, that doesn't mean I don't feel horrible after doing so. I'm still a human, after all. Plus, there is no excuse in taking the life of an enemy that has given up on fighting you. In nowhere that is morally or legally acceptable. The rules of engagement exist for a reason, to make all conflicts fair and square, and to avoid unnecessary deaths even from unwilling participants. That's what every country in the world has adhered to… up until the climax of the last war, that is. That's what my father and my grandfather have always adhered to as military men.

And do I really want to throw mud onto their names, along with all that they believed in right now? - The very idea of it repulsed me to the core.

Perhaps these Humanoids can still be reasoned with somehow. I just need to give it another try. Give them another quarter.

"...Tartar. Drop your sword. Knock them out, but do not kill them. All except for the tank-tacles." I grunted coarsely, as if every syllable of the words caused me great pain. "I repeat! Non-lethal only!" I hissed in anger upon seeing his lack of response.

To his credit, the AI at the other end of the comm immediately complied, with no objection. "Yes sir, I will."

Alright, that is settled then. - I smirked briefly. Then my finger met the tiny knob that is the taser's trigger, circled around it a little…

"Alright. Standby- Ah, fuck it"

…And pulled.

'BZZZZRT!' 'Thud!'

Maurice felt like she was about to puke. Her head was spinning and throbbing with pain, like someone had hit it with a sledgehammer. The world around her turned dark, with thousands of tiny agitated fireflies assaulting her vision out of nowhere. Through her muffled and buzzing ear, she could vaguely hear the frantic voices of her teammates calling each other, the constant thumping and whirring of ink weaponry, and the deafeningly dry sound of thunder that sparsely dotted it.

"...Shots fired! SHOTS FIRED!" A short burst of ink followed.

"...Where did that from!?" A high pitched whirring from one of the stingrays. It's operator didn't open fire.

"...I CAN'T SEE CARP!" Another burst- "Take cover! IT'S UP THERE-" Another thunderclap erupted. "-Bloody shell, that hurts!"

"...I'M GOOD! I'm good! Forget about him!" A female voice nearby. Unmistakably from Oceania. "Everybody spread out- wait whAT THE SHU-" Maurice heard heavy running footsteps for some reason. They were soon drowned out by another cacophony of heavy ink fire.

"...Shoot that thing! SHOOT IT! It's coMING FOR ME-" Oh cod, that one was from Mira!-

It doesn't take a fully conscious Maurice to realize that her team have been ambushed, and were not at all faring well against it. They were fighting for their lives, struggling to identify the shooter's position while something big and heavy chased them around like smallfries. The girl tried to flex her cramped-up limbs, feeling the rough texture of concrete ground she was sprawled on. Maurice had mostly regained her hearing, and her vision was also coming back to her, albeit quite slower than she'd preferred. The octoling got back to her feet with some difficulty and pried off the strange gelatinous mass stuck on her forehead. She then hid behind the body of a cohock, her octoshot drawn and ready to fire. Both of their tank-tacles were dead in a puddle, just a couple feet away from her. One has a hole through his face, and the other has been almost completely ripped in half. Outside the back of the mini-park, just a couple meters away from the steel gate frame, she could see that Jason and Oceania were locked in a desperate battle against what is apparently a tall ironclad robot straight from old Ascendant sci-fi posters. It was being pelted relentlessly from all directions by the trio's combined firepower, shielding its face with its only arm.

"Aim for the head! Keep it blinded!" Jason shouted, chucking a glowing splat bomb at the monstrosity as soon as its arm was lowered, which did little more than annoy it further. The thing wiped off the ink on its lenses, then turned to charge at Jason in a frenzy, its arm flailing around in an attempt to grab his head. But the sniper managed to turn octopus and dive out of its way just in time, not before leaving another splat bomb at where the machine would land. The withering streams of inkjets resumed before the monster could get back on its feet. Then the thing attempted another blind rush at Oceanica, who also dodged out of the way, rinse and repeat. A dozen meters away from the fight, her sister Mira sprawled motionlessly with her left arm bent behind his back, her backpack torn open and her dynamo-roller snapped in half by her side. Maurice's growing panic subsided a bit upon seeing that her sister was still breathing, and the mechanical horror was too occupied with the trio to care about them.

This doesn't mean that she can get Mira to safety right away however, because as soon as she looked up, her eyes instantly locked onto the mysterious sniper on the 2nd floor's catwalk. His trademark orange visor and beige backpack almost made Maurice grind her beaks into dust. The Stranger - her regret for voting for that nickname, instead of something more derogatory - had decided to abandon his previous spot, and was stealthily sneaking to the left side of the catwalks to avoid drawing attention to himself.

Coddamnit! - Maurice cursed internally. If the bastard could reposition himself and have a good firing angle, then it would be big trouble for everyone! Just two shots, and the only two people keeping the steel beast occupied would drop, leaving her, Mira and Kaye ripe for the picking. From this distance, Maurice could probably reach the hanging platforms with a super jump, but that would certainly not end well for her even if she managed to land on it.

Speaking of Kaye though…

The girl turned around to see the guy still laying on the bench, his IV bag detached from his arm and dropped under the bench during the chaos. Strips of unchanged bandages still hung all over his legs, swaying left and right as the wounded octoling struggled to sit himself up.

"Wa-? …Warthkisgoinon-??" The male octoling frantically asked, his voice slightly garbled by the cotton wads inside his mouth. How he still managed to stay awake and talk like that, despite suffering from a concussion and bunch of broken cartilages is beyond her. Octoling biology is a miraculous thing indeed.

"Kaye!" Maurice growled, "Snipers! Get down!" The revived mummy flopped back on his 'bed' upon hearing the word 'sniper', just in time for a lightning bolt to explode on the ground near him, reminding both of them that they are not off the hook yet. Maurice took a deep breath. She could try to reattach his fallen needle, but another glance at the shooter upstairs told her that this is easier said than done. But Kaye very much needed his IV drip though, especially in his current critical condition. Worse yet, the fall had apparently sprung a leak on the bag, and fluid was slowly streaking out in a small stream. And they only carried one IV bag with them into here, which means Kaye's survival chance was running on a timer.

Shuck shuck shuck SHUCK!! - Maurice gripped the remainder of her hair in frustration. She'd been stuck in the middle of a three-way trolley dilemma, where each choice demanded an equally great sacrifice in exchange. Choosing to save Kaye means abandoning her sister, and exposing herself to sniper fire - who is a terrible shot, by the way. Choosing Mira means abandoning Kaye and being the target of the mad robot's rampage - but at least she'll have Jason and Oceanica to back her up. But by choosing to intercept The Stranger, she could potentially save everyone, but that would pose the greatest amount of risk for herself. No one had even managed to spot the sniper yet, and Maurice highly doubted that she could last against him in single combat. They'd all seen how that turned out for Kaye, and that was way before The Stranger managed to pull a long spear out of his ass. She could almost imagine herself impaled like a fish on its wicked-looking tip, and it made her shudder at the thought of.

"Think, Maurice! Think!" The girl held her forehead in desperation, her three hearts threatening to jump out of her chest. For the first time in her life, Maurice could truly feel the weight of her choice's consequences. The lives of her sister, her colleagues and herself had been placed on her hand, and could be taken away just as easily with only one wrong move. The girl could almost physically feel each and every second slipping out of their grasp, ticking away to their demise.

Cm'on, girl!! Choose, coddamnit!!

"MAURICE!" The loud and throaty call of her name cut off her train of thought. Jason was firing at the robot with one arm and waving at The Stranger from above with the other.

"THE FLOPPING SNIPER!! GET HI-" His shout was abruptly cut off by a bright lance of pure electricity impacting the back of his head. Before Maurice's widened eyes, the male octoling dropped to his knees without a word, giving the mechanical monstrosity a chance to dash forth and wrap its hand around his throat.

"JASON! NO!!" Oceanica screamed in horror, and continued to roar as she unloaded the remainder of her ink tank on the robot's back. She, too, soon went down like a sack of potatoes as another bolt hit her in the abdomen. The machine tightened its grip on the flailing octoling's neck for a while, then dropped him to the ground as soon as his limbs went limp. It then turned to walk toward the team leader, and Maurice looked away. Two of her peers have perished, all because of her indecisiveness.

"S-shuck you…!!" Maurice growled inside her throat, as her body shook from both seething anger and the pressure building up within her super-jump glands. The Stranger has also spotted her standing in the middle of the park, and raised his shooter again. The girls closed her eyes, silently making a distance calculation inside her head even when electro-fire zipped and crackled around her. Her choice had already been made.

If it has already come to this, then I won't hold back. I'll make sure my friends get out of this alive, even if-

"-I HAVE TO DESTROY MYSELF!!" Maurice growled at the top of her lungs as she transformed. All of her built-up pressure was released at that very moment, and the small purple octopus sailed across the air like a rocket, a great rainbow of pink forming her trail. The world around Maurice seemed to slow down, and she could see in great detail everything that was going on around her. From the mass body dump that is the park below, to the Stranger's aghast face, to the splatling-lugging octoling girl who was sneaking up on him around the stairs.

Wait. Anthia?

Maurice blinked twice. Somehow she'd managed to forget that the gunner existed a moment ago. That girl apparently had the same idea as her, and Maurice greatly welcomed any possible assistance in taking this bastard down. The octoling slightly angled her body downward and stuck out one of her tentacles as she flew past the flabbergasted Stranger, smacking the visor of his helmet and turning it sideways. In return for deviating from her landing pose, the girl collided with the wall with the loud 'Smack!', but she was way too pumped to even register the pain. Wasting no time in checking her injuries, Maurice reverted back to her bipedal form and kicked the blinded Stranger on the back of his knee, causing him to stumble down.

"GET HIM, ANTHIA!" She shouted, firing a burst of ink square on the Stranger's pale face, who'd just finished ripping off his helmet. The gunner revved up her splatling and also fired torrents at him, steadily moving closer as she did. Ducking down to avoid the helmet that he swung at her, Maurice swung her octoshot hard on his gun hand, sending the weapon to the 1st floor. She then whipped her shooter on his nape as a bonus, causing the freak's forehead to hit the railing with a resounding 'conk!'. The full weight of Anthia's splatling slammed onto the Stranger's back before he could react, sending him stumbling into Maurice's punching range which earned him another fist to the face. What soon followed was a furious flurry of kicks and punches from both Octolings that left him completely disoriented, with no room to escape or defend himself.

"YEAH! SERVES YOU RIGHT!! HOW'D YOU LIKE THAT, FILTHY DOGFISH!?" Maurice shouted loudly between her jabs, all the built-up anger inside her spewing forth with each word.

"Push him off! Push him off!" Anthia called out from the opposite side, ramming the well-beaten Stranger against the railings. The younger girl complied, swiftly kneeling down and grabbing hold of his legs, ready to flip the guy over the balcony. With all of her strength, Maurice lifted up and-

"-Ghuugck!-..." -got promptly stopped in her tracks. She gasped in bewilderment upon seeing the Stranger's legs have barely even shifted from their spots. It's as if she was trying to uproot an ancient tree and not just someone who is barely a head taller than her.

Why is this freak so damn heavy!? What is he even made of!?

Maurice barely had time to think though, because as soon as her grip on the Stranger's legs loosened, he grabbed her hair tentacles into a bunch and rammed her head onto the railings like a coconut. He then dodged Anthia's wild punches and palm-chopped her across the neck, backing away as the gunner clutched her gasping windpipe in pain. Both soldiers watched as the Stranger dropped his heavy backpack and unfolded his spear, shifting into combat stance with a nasty scowl on his face. The table has turned again, and this time, it's their turn to go under it.

"Ah carp…" Anthia muttered with curled fists, glancing over her shoulder at where her splatling was. No, that would not be a viable option. There was no way she could both make it there and rev the gun up in time. "What do we do now?"

"...I blind him with ink, you go for the spear, alright?" Maurice responded while aiming her octoshot at the Stranger, who was circling around them like a hungry predator.

"...Yeah" Anthia nodded cautiously, lowering her posture while tracking the enemy's every step.

"...NOW!" Maurice barked, holding down the trigger as her teammate lunged forward with arms outstretched, almost in perfect unison. But the Stranger was faster, sidestepping both the ink barrage and Anthia in the blink of an eye, and tripping her with the blunt end of his spear. He then rushed right in front of Maurice, before unleashing a combo of blindingly-fast jabs and slashes that threw off her aim.

Wait WHAT!?

Maurice struggled to keep up with the Stranger's speed and ferocity. It's as if he had turned into a different person the moment he touched a spear. Even though the first couple strikes missed, the fifth one managed to slice across the back of Maurice's right hand as she tried to block it.

"AAAAGH!!" Maurice screamed, backing off while clutching her dripping wound, her octoshot dropped and kicked aside by the freak. He lowered into a threatening crouch with his spear tip almost ground-level, and was about to go for another swipe when something impacted him on the back. It was Anthia in her octopus form, who immediately reverted and pulled the Stranger into a chokehold, dangling left and right behind him on his neck like a sack of rocks.

"MAURICE! GRAB THE SP- AAAAaaaagh!" 'Thud!'

-Anthia's valiant effort was for naught, however, as the Stranger finally found a grip on her armor's collar, and slammed her onto the ground with all his might. She tried to stand back up but was swiftly pushed down again, accompanied by searing hot pain exploding in her stomach. The girl glanced down, only to see a gleaming blade sticking into her abdomen, a wet purplish spot rapidly expanding all over her top armor.

She has been stabbed.

…Well, can't say I didn't expect this outcome. - A smirk appeared on Anthia's lips - What gotta come, gonna come-...

"NO!!" Maurice screamed, tears welling in her eyes as she watched the murderer wrench his spear out of her limping teammate. He then looked up, his foul bloodshot eyes meeting her own.

Maurice hugged her head, causing the Stranger to pause in confusion. Such a gruesome sight would've probably sent her into hyperventilation, had it happened a couple hours ago. But she is not Maurice from a couple hours ago. All the misery that had happened to her in one day, combined with watching people she'd known for years die before her eyes had finally made Maurice snap. No, the girl felt no fear, sadness or regret anymore.

But just pure, unbridled, primal rage

The urge to cut the bastard down, rip him limb from limb, shatter his bones and eviscerate him apart with her bare hands, until the very atoms cry out for mercy. Break him over and over and over again even even until the scorching fire of Hell consumes them both.

A dreadful and madness-filled wail erupted from the bottom of her throat, and the former childishly quirky girl lashed out at the spearman like a cornered animal. The Stranger launched a quick thrust at his opponent in hope of keeping her at bay, but it only managed to graze her shoulder as she dove right under his spear. She then launched herself at his chest, but he managed to dive out of the way just in time, before cutting her right calf open with a downward swipe. That did nothing to stop the girl though, as she abruptly whipped around in an almost inertia-defying fashion, her jagged wounds spilling blood across the metal floor. With an unnaturally strong grip she ripped the Stranger's spear off his hand, then pounced on and pinned him to the ground. She was met with two panicked punches square in the jaws, but managed to catch the third, before doing something that was considered a grave taboo in the Octarian society. Something that could very much turn Maurice into an exile within her own hometurf forever.

She bit down on his bicep. Hard.

Damn, tastes like carp! - A thought sprung from the back of Maurice's head, that she barely registered through her rage-fueled haze. The Stranger let out an ear-splitting shriek while trying to shove the girl off, but she managed to hold on for dear life, all the while keeping her utterly manic gaze locked with his. Suddenly, a cold and firm hand grabbed hold of her nape, and lifted her off the Stranger as easily as picking up a cat. She whipped her head around with a bloodstained snarl, only to see the emotionless lenses of the metal beast staring back, before the grip around her neck suddenly tightened.

Maurice fought on and on, even when her vision darkened and body weakened, her consciousness slowly slipping from her grasp…

…

"Yo where the hell have you been!?" I quipped angrily, nursing my bleeding arm with a piece of bandage from a leaf-knitted backpack. Its owner, along with four of her mates were unconscious and hogtied into a line against the fountain, the fifth one still flat on the park bench nearby.

"My deepest apology for this untimeliness, sir. I will not allow this to happen again, you have my promise." Tartar apologetically responded as he used a first-aid injector near the bite mark on my forearm. It stung like hell, but still within a bearable limit.

"One of these humanoids managed to wake up sooner than I'd anticipated, and I was occupied with subduing her at the moment. She was quite the slippery one, I must say." The A.M.C.U added, finishing up the treatment with an adhesive pad over the wound.

I opened my mouth to speak but stopped midway, finding no more reason to berate the AI with. "Oh you fucking- ...Fine. Alright. Whatever." I clicked my tongue with a sigh.

"How are you feeling? Are you still in pain? Do you need some painkillers for that?" Tartar asked worriedly, kneeling down and pulling out an orange vial from my backpack. "This should heal completely in 3 days, though it would leave an ugly scar for sure." He added.

"No, I'm feeling fine. Thanks, Tartar." I responded absent-mindedly, too occupied with inspecting my patched-up arm.

"You're most welcome, sir." He responded, moving to fix up the girl I'd just stabbed. I quickly noticed that his movement has become considerably less jerky like a mannequin, but looking more fluid and organic like a living creature instead. Apparently the AI has apparently gotten more used to controlling his new metal body, which is quite remarkable given the short timeframe he had to learn it.

"How is she looking? Good?"

"Hmmm… most interesting. Her wound was deep, but strangely didn't hit any organs or major blood vessels. She just has this small empty space right below her cartilage "ribcage", that doesn't seem to serve any purpose for her vital functions at all. I will have to look into this phenomenon more closely later." Tartar mused, closing the woman's wound shut with a medical stapler. More of his scientific babbles that I don't need to hear. "Regardless, sir, she will make a full recovery."

"That's good. That's good. Make sure to check on the others also." I pointed along the line of humanoids. There could still be hidden or internal injuries on them, which I don't want to miss out on until they grow into a major issue. And given the way Tartar handled those three Humanoids earlier, I wouldn't be surprised if there are more than just a couple. Apparently a great technological edge can't make up for a severe lack of skill. Because even though Tartar was in the body of a state-of-the-art spec-ops robot, he still struggled to even get close to the Humanoids, let alone catching them. The AI has absolutely no knowledge of non-lethal subjugation, instead having to rely on me to tell him how even when he'd managed to grab hold of a Humanoid. This, of course, led to them turning into octopuses and slipping off, so in the end I just told the guy to choke the hell out of them or something. Thankfully, it turned out to be effective, and no Humanoid suffered from a broken neck in the end.

"The girl that bit you had a lacerated hand and calf, the roller-wielding one has a broken left index finger, and the little guy on the bench has almost his entire body destroyed but still managed to live somehow.I have resolved all of these issues present, except for all the bruises which everyone have." Tartar reported and moved back beside me, a bundle of bloodied rags on his hands. I glanced back at the crippled male humanoid, and was pleased to see him staring back at me with all the contempt in the world. At least his bandages have been changed, and his IV drip hung back up.

"Alright. Thank you." I nodded and stood up. "When do you think they're gonna wake up?"

"About 10 minutes, sir." He replied

"Mmm-Hmm… And how do you think I should do this? Like… try to communicate with them?" I touched my chin contemplatively, looking down at my sleeping captives. "Sign languages? Drawings? What?"

"That wouldn't be necessary, sir. I can learn their tongue through brain scan, then translate to you in real time." Tartar spread out his hand and then the center of his palm, revealing a strange cube-shaped apparatus attached within its small compartment.

"Oh shiiiit! Right! Why didn't I think of that?" I smacked my forehead with a chuckle, wincing in pain upon realizing that I'd just used the wrong arm. Neuro-Interrogation was what he mentioned. A relatively new method of interrogation that involves extracting the information straight from the captive's brain, first used by law-enforcements on particularly tight-lipped criminals, then by special operatives who need intel in the middle of battles. This is often considered more humane than the traditional methods as it is quick, painless and doesn't leave any notable damage to the brain, although there's been quite a fair amount of controversy surrounding it. It is only natural for a SA-Model A.M.C.U to be equipped with that. And how does this technology work? Hell if I know, don't ask me. All that matters is that it works, and it works well.

"Cool. How long would the process take?" I asked, watching the two overlapping rings of the Neuro-Interrogator sprung to life.

"About 15 minutes or more, sir. It depends on the pattern of their brain, and how complex their language is." Tartar replied, before placing his hand on the Humanoid leader's head. The device started to whirr ominously while emitting a bright green glow, and countless lines of texts began to appear on the robot's holo-screen. "This will take a while."

"Fine by me. We have all the time in the world to wait" I shrugged and sat back down, pulling my phone out to take some pictures of myself, the group and then the whole park. It's always good to have some pics, even if there is no Facebook, Instagram or TikTok left for me to share it on. Or anyone, for that matter.

I calmly tore open my last bag of chips, shoved a couple into my mouth and pressed on the familiar icon of a smiling donkey-eared girl. Now that I'm back in the safezone, it's about time I see if Arknights have gotten any new updates in the past few dozen decades or not.

Cheap mobile gacha games. The thing that keeps your sanity up, even when the world has gone to shit.

...

…

…"GHAAAaahh!...", Mira snapped awake with a shudder, her muscles tensed like overstretched springs and her forehead dripping with sweat. It is apparent that the girl had been through a bad dream, judging from her rapid breathing and how she frantically darted her eyes around. The intense bright light before her quickly made her regret that decision, filling the girl's hazy vision with dark spots and causing her to wince. For a brief moment she'd thought that it's sunlight she was seeing, and they'd somehow managed to make it back outside the bunker. However, a quick analysis of its source's position and intensity quickly disabused her of that notion. There's no period of the day when the sun can be so bright while being under her eye level.

"...What the shuck?" Mira mumbled in both annoyance and puzzlement, her half-asleep brain working at full capacity to process the situation going on around it. She tried to block out the light with a hand, before springing out of her drowsiness completely upon realizing that she couldn't. With newfound panic she looked down, only to see that her wrists, along with the rest of her body, had been tightly bound together with ropes made from twisted bandages. A quick glance to the left told her that the other team members next to her hadn't fared any better, but also unconscious and tied up like hams in a butcher shop.

Suddenly, the mysterious light at the corner of her eyes went out with a flicker. In the slowly-receding blackness that took its place, she could vaguely make out a tall octopoid silhouette sitting a couple meters away from her. And Mira knows too well who exactly this silhouette belongs to.

The Stranger.

Oh carp.

It is evident that he'd been observing them before the girl was even up, and she could no longer use the "fake asleep" card to buy her more time. The octoling stared in anticipation at where she assumed his eye was, not daring to even breathe as if afraid that making the slightest motion could set the guy off. But a soft clicking noise to her right broke the silence between them, and Mira - to her instant regret - swiftly glanced at its source. Looking back at her with malice was the giant murderous robot, standing motionlessly like an obsidian statue with its glowing hand placed on Oceanica's forehead. Mira inhaled sharply.

"...H-hello?" She finally managed to squeak out, hoping to gauge a response from either one of her captors. But as if deliberately torturing the girl, the machine simply stared back into her soul with its piercing blue lenses.

"Hello?..." Mira tried again louder. Still, the only answer she received was silence, it was driving her crazy.

"...w- WHAT DO YOU WANT!?" The girl snapped with a snarl, the suspense finally proved to be too unbearable for her. "ANSWER ME!!"

Another resounding beep cut through the darkness like a blade, almost giving Mira a heart failure. The robot finally let go of Oceanica's head and walked back to its master - or at least she thought the Stranger was its master. They then conversed with each other in the same weird, single-syllabled and guttural language that the Stranger used. And color Mira surprised when she found out that the machine can somehow make it sound even more booming and grating than the spearman. A whole vocal range that she didn't know was even possible.

Before Mira's amazement could cease, both of them turned to stare straight at her, sending a chill down her spine. The buzzing sound of radio static came right after it, so maddeningly loud and constant that it made her head feel like it was going to split open. As suddenly as it had appeared, the static ceased to exist, and in its place foreign voices came to be instead.

Maurice couldn't believe her ears. It was not speaking in the Stranger's repulsive language at all, but instead actual Octarian tongue with almost perfect pitch and dialect. Although the voice did sound like it came from a particularly decrepit radio that had been dropped into water, it still got Mira's mouth agape in bafflement.

"Bzzzzt!... -Ello?... Bzzzzt! B-bzzzzt!... Hello?" It asked, accompanied by even more interference.

"Hello!" Mira hurriedly responded, before pausing to contemplate her decision, "...Hello. Can you… understand me?" Try as she might, the girl couldn't discern whether it was the robot or the Stranger speaking with her due to how close to each other they were.

"Bzzzzt!... H-h-hello! O-one four eight! Three to the three to the six to the nine! Representing the ABQ!" It barked out as if dissing a rap, almost making her eardrum implode in the process."Is this thing on yet!?"

"Yes! That's what I'm talking about! Finally, after a ton of wasted bullets and more than a couple casualties, we can understand each other! It's thrilling, isn't it?" The voice continued in a childishly ecstatic manner, leaving Mira completely speechless and confused. "I don't know about you, but I'd say that it was a mighty fine first contact we had. I had expected much, much worse for both of us to happen, believe me."

"W-who-... What the shell do you want!?" Mira demanded with feigned anger, her trembling voice betraying her facade.

"Oh no, girl. It's not polite to just jump straight into business all willy-nilly like that!" The voice laughed, a grating and hollow laugh that contained a fair amount of aggression under it. "We always gotta introduce ourselves first! Weren't you taught that?"

"...Huh?" Mira was still too flabbergasted to pay any mind to the jab at the end.

"Alright... Let's start with you first. What's your name, dollface?" The Stranger's silhouette jerked its chin. "Oh and by the way, some of your friends are waking up. So you better be quick before I pass the mic to them!"

"...Mira."

"What was that? I can't heaaaar you~" The Stranger cocked his head slightly.

"I-it's Mira" She blurted out.

"Ohhh… Mira, huh? That's a beautiful name you got there. Compatible with English, too! Interesting." The Stranger clapped his hands in delight, chuckling as he stood up to his full height. "Well then…"

Finally finding her bearing in the conversation, the octoling asked, "So who are-"

"-SHUCK YOU, MIRA!" And she was taken aback once again. "SHUCK! YOU! AND THE UGLY, FILTHY GAGGLE OF FREAKS YOU CALL FRIENDS!! YOU ALL GO KILL YOURSELVES!" The Stranger continued to roar at the top of his lungs, moving closer to a petrified Mira until he was centimeters away from hers. Mira could see every detail of his snarling and unnaturally pale face, feel his hot but surprisingly odorless breath on her skin. Then just as abruptly, he quickly pulled away back into the darkness.

"Now that introduction is out of the way…" The Stranger clasped his hands together, "Let's get back to business, shall we?" A glance to her left showed her that the rest of her team had already woken up, and was also just as intimidated as her. The mountain of a robot left its master's side and walked behind the group, almost shaking the ground with each step. The blinding light from before came back, this time illuminating the ground around all of them.

"Buckle up, people!" What? The voice was coming from behind her back? So it wasn't the Stranger, but the robot who talked the whole time?

"...Because coddamn, we have a looooooot of business to get to." Mira shuddered, as the last line came from right next to her head.

Ooookay. We finally got some interaction between the two sides, with words and not with rounds. Another chapter out of the over, after like... half a year long hiatus and basically being a couch potato. And I'd like to apologize for that. It is, and has always been an issue of motivation for me. Hopefully this time I can keep it up?

Oh and btw, I'm in America now!

Thanks for reading y'all. And please drop a fav and follow if you like it, maybe a review if you feel like I should improve on/ change something. I'd greatly appreciate it.

Have a good day.