WASTELAND, PIT STOP, 1090

The distinct sound of the tent zipper's soft metallic clicks slowly fades into mind, rousing me from my slumber… By the time I'm fully aware, the air has already become cold from the open flap. I can hear the intruder making their way into the tent, but their attempts at discretion are betrayed by the loud crackling of the tent floor.

Blinking the last of sleep out of my eyes, I barely see a figure by the entrance taking an interest at…

'Now hold on right there. That shotgun you're holding. That's my shotgun!'

As I begin slowly shifting my arm out of the sleeping bag, I cock the gun before it's fully out of the bag, muffling as much noise as possible, and aim my Scottfield at the intruder. At this range, he has no other choice but to confront me.

…!

You're in deep shit now.

Clearly not expecting both my sudden awakening and the sound of a hammer being cocked, the intruder—like an idiot—stupidly drops my Romero onto the floor before throwing his hands up. He gives me agitated whispers of what I can take as a plea for mercy. Doesn't mean much to me though, I don't speak Ursusian. He's definitely a man, though.

"…Speak Victorian." I wrap my finger around the trigger, beckoning him to heed incentive. By now, Ashley had also woken up from the hushed confrontation. Turning on the lamp, a glare of drowsy annoyance plastered all over her face.

"A-Ah…?" The intruder stares at me through the darkness of his hood in wavered confusion before he begins speaking again, this time in a language I can understand.

"Mister, please, you do not have to do this." He speaks in a strong accent, reminding me of the first time I woke up in that village.

The intruder holds his hands out in front of his face, almost trying to hide his view away from the muzzle of my gun.

I take note that his identity is concealed by a mantle, does everybody in this world wear some kind of hood or something?

"Well yeah? Gimme a reason why, And it'd better be a damn good one." Come on already.

…

…

Finally, after a silence that was too uncomfortably long for me, the intruder finally speaks, this time with unsolicited confidence.

"…You are surrounded by my comrades. If I were to die, You would be soon to follow. I mean, w-"

BANG

~⁕~

Numerous eyes gaze at the distant campsite's silhouette from the all-surrounding darkness. Like dollar-eyed fools, they think the bigger the group, the bigger the payout.

There isn't a leader to this group, but the one in the lead adjusts their mantle one last time before bordering on the edge of the camp.

Sneaking closer to the nearest of the tents, the hooded figure glances at the rest of his accomplices as they go off to the other tents.

The tent is a dark grey, with two windows on either side of a decently large flap that served as a sealed-up entrance.

Having not seen anything through the windows, the soon-to-be intruder enclosed a finger and thumb between the tent's zipper, slowly and gently pulling down until the cold air rushed all the way in to fill the whole tent up.

The intruder scanned his eyes around the tent, noting the bags of gear and the two sleeping occupants before laying his eyes on something seriously grand.

A firearm.

A long firearm, to be exact. As much of a find that is, what mostly stood out to the intruder was the apparent and obvious fact that neither of the occupants appeared to be Sankta.

He'd know. Because there was absolutely no way to turn it off by conventional means except by dying. At least that's all he knew.

Picking up the incredibly rare, almost alien prize, the intruder examined it intently. The wooden furniture was lightly weathered, with the only real clean parts being a small section behind the barrel, the part where all the mechanisms resided.

Straining his eyes in the darkness, he could make out a few strange words on the side of the gun. Written in a strange way, the intruder silently mouthed the words to himself.

Romero Arms Company.

There were some more words under that, but they were far smaller and harder to see to make out. They weren't probably weren't important—

Click

'Shit.'

~⁕~

BANG

That was the sound everyone awoke to.

For some, it was the sign of a silent raid gone terribly wrong.

Yet collectively, no matter what side you were on, there was one thing that was at the front of everybody's minds.

Panic.

And with that, chaos permeated throughout the campsite. Shouts ran throughout the campsite like in a wave of confusion and anger. Many of the mercenaries rushed out of their tents like the venomous insects of a disturbed hive, weapons at the ready.

Lethal arts attacks were cast, reinforced bolts were shot, and blades sparked when they clashed. The mercenaries were unrelenting in their response to the thieving bandits. It is an all out war.

~⁕~

Gilliean's awakening was abrupt, jolted by the sharp crack of a gunshot that surely roused everyone. But it was the familiar, metallic scent of blood that gripped him with alarm.

It was Gari's.

His eyes flew open to a looming figure above. Without hesitation, Gilliean leaped out of his sleeping bag, delivering a swift kick to the intruder's neck. The impact sent the assailant sprawling backward, gasping for air as their hands clenched around their own neck.

In a rash decision, Gilliean turned to Gari's sleeping bag, momentarily forgetting the threat behind him. Sweat rolled down his face whilst his hands trembled as he unzipped it.

'No no no…'

…

In a flash, he snatched a bloody knife from mid-air, thrown with deadly intent. Yet, his gaze remained fixed on Gari, an unreadable expression having replaced his worry. As he quickly returned to sender, only to be met with a meaty crunch in response.

Executing the thing.

~⁕~

'If they value our belongings more than their lives, then their lives will end with our belongings.' Ferrok thought to himself as he used the bottom of his boot to dislodge his blade from a hooded figure.

To the average person, it would've been almost impossible to tell the difference between friend and foe in this scenario, but to Ferrok, it was night and day. Ferrok's group was not a family, but the mercenaries have known and relied on each other for years.

This wasn't the first time bandits or thieves had taken a chance against Ferrok's group. It might be assumed that after the first brutal encounter, the infamy resulting from such a slaughter would have been enough to deter future attacks from other bandit groups.

Unfortunately, there is an over-abundance of fools in this world.

Three figures emerged from behind the corner of a tent, pitiful swords and daggers drawn, their unbalanced footing crushing the snow beneath them. As they swiftly closed in on Ferrok, they were all cleanly divided into six with a single cleave. Their blood splattered against the side of the tent, a good wash would get that right out.

On the other side of the clearing, a strike was blocked by the dense and battered surface of a riot shield. Retaliation came quickly in the form of a baton firmly striking a deep dent into the skull of the perpetrating bandit.

After the body impacted the ground and with no one else to oppose them, the mercenary guard quickly turned their attention to an injured comrade, who was clutching at a cut in their side. Her determined treatment and urgent voice were hushed by the comrade's reassuring touch and voice.

Beneath her visor, a face of relief was quickly replaced by disappointment as she scolded the comrade for his recklessness. Finally, she tied up a bandage and helped him to his feet.

Ferrok watched as the two proceeded to eviscerate the next bandit they came across. A shield bash straight to the nose, and two severed limbs rendered the bandit dispatched.

Ferrok's group was not a family… but those two might just become one in the future.

~⁕~

Ashley did not appreciate her sleep getting disrupted. When she realised just what was going on, she immediately wanted to shut the intruder up. She almost didn't care that their purpose was to steal from them, but when the intruder mentioned that he had friends, she was in full alert mode.

After the painfully loud shot, not long after, another one of the bandits came in to investigate. It was certainly a stupid move, as if his comrade laying dead right in the entrance of the tent wasn't enough of a warning. When the second idiot peeked his head in, that's when she decided that she didn't want to subject herself to another loud gunshot and took matters into her own hands.

Ashley grabbed something from behind her jacket and flung it at the bandit with all her might, intent on landing the mark exactly where she wanted. The bounty hunter held back on shooting as the hand on his shoulder told him otherwise. A small creak and pop erupted from within the object, erupting a dozen violently un-coiling barbed wires.

And quickly overriding the tension of the wire with her own arts.

The hook infested wire imploded on the bandit, strangling every part of their body, each barb constricting and sawing deep through his flesh. He screamed as barbs pierced his hands as he desperately failed to pry the wires off of his figure, such futile struggle only served to cause more grievous wounds.

The flailing stopped when she got tired of the screeching. Deciding to put one final push the wire rend through the now corpse as both bone and tissue are nothing more than wet chunks.

Giving the hunter a glance, the two lock eyes for the next moment.

…

'What? Like hell was I going to let you fire near me again!' Ashley frowned at the hunter, pointing at her ears with both hands.

"…Fair enough." The bounty hunter rested his gun up in a neutral position, barrel pointed to the ceiling, eyes on the body.

~⁕~

That was probably the third most brutal way to die I think I've ever seen in my whole life as a hunter.

It was almost like watching an animal get eaten alive. The way the bandit desperately struggled and cried…

I've seen quite a few hunters get shredded in concertina tripwires and bombs, but I've never seen the wire act as if it were alive and dice those unfortunate to get caught in it!

I look back toward Ashley, who after letting me know that she didn't appreciate me firing so close to her, gave me a thumbs up and a cheerful smile, despite what just happened.

Sighing in slight unease, I pause myself to listen for anymore curious bandits.

…Nothing, other than the sounds of fighting between Ferrok's mercenaries and the bandits ensued. That quickly got old, however, as Ashley and I carefully pushed our way out of the tent, not before picking up the slightly bloody shotgun and slingling it over my shoulder.

We sidestep the bloody mess on the floor and leave.

As much of a gruesome death that was, I wasn't going to dirty my new pair of shoes so quickly like that.

Stepping out into the cold, it wasn't too difficult to see my surroundings as the two moons and the amount of stars overhead certainly lit most of the landscape up.

Heh, it's still hard for me to believe that we are a couple hundred metres off the ground.

Having been positioned on the outskirts of the camp, we turn inwards, searching for any more bandits so we can finish off the active threat.

Past the many dull-coloured tents, we indeed find many bodies.

Dead ones. Including ours, this area isn't a sight for sore eyes.

I crouch down in front of a corpse, taking a closer look at his wounds. Numerous slashes and stab wounds were spread out around its body. Judging by the amount of cuts, this guy was either ill-trained, or we have some very devious and opportunistic merc with a knife on our side.

We approach the centre of the camp, a large clearing with an extinguished fire pit. My thought process is interrupted as one of the nearby tents is completely destroyed in a bright flash.

Ears ringing, bright spot in my vision, two bodies barrel through the wreckage brutally engaged in melee. The one on their back shielded themselves with a staff whilst the one on top was busy trying to snap said staff with a bulky pair of gauntlets.

I swiftly bring my gun down and immediately lock onto the offender before realisation hits me hard to stop me from shooting.

I'm confident in my precision shooting enough to take the shot. What I'm not confident about is which of the two is friend or foe. The sights of my gun alternate between the two targets in uncertainty.

"Which one do I shoot!?" I waste no time in wondering as I quickly demand an answer from Ashley.

Glancing at Ashley doesn't help, as she's preoccupied with temporary hearing loss, her eyes shut tightly in pain. The brawler is knocked off with a burst of orange light, the staff rising to his feet.

There's no time to question what that was as right before the two engaged again, a familiar voice rang out.

Halting right beside the destroyed tent was Ferrok and a couple of his mercenaries.

"The rangers! Take care of them before they try anything!" Rangers…? That could only mean one thing.

Grabbing Ashley's arm and immediately dragging her down to the ground with me, I wasn't aware if we were the current target or not, but I didn't take any risks and was soon rewarded with a volley of half a dozen arrows darting overhead. I quickly pick myself back up in order to catch them out before they can reload or relocate.

Looking in the direction Ferrok was shouting, I made out a hooded figure prone on top of our truck, about forty feet away from ourselves. Instincts took over as I immediately aimed and fired one round, piercing his upper jaw and going limp immediately. With no time to think about the spine shot, I try to catch a glimpse of the others, but the rest must be on the ground as there seemed to only be one up high.

Looking back I catch a glimpse of both fighters bludgeoned to death. One being ensnared by Ashley's wire.

"We have no time. We need to rush them, Now!"

Tossing Ashley the Romero and shotgun shell pouch, I began scouring around for a backup. I've only got five shots left and I have no time to reload. A backup would be good to have after I've run out. My eyes eventually land on an oddly shaped bloody crescent knife off the ground. This will have to do.

Quickly sprinting to the edge of the camp and—Shit, those rangers might be able to reload before I can catch them off. It's been… six seconds since I shot and from what I've seen these guys are way stronger than humans, meaning a thirty-second reload for ours is going to be only a fraction of a second for them.

No no no—Shit! YES!

"Found you, ya fuck!"

Jumping on top of the deuse, I wrench the blade up under his chin, promptly ending his life. Yet, he still managed to knock off a shot with a dead man's hand. The bolt barely clips my thigh. That was too close, Too close!

At least four left.

Taking out Ashley's "gift", I prepared for debatably one of the most stupid things I have ever done since coming to this world. There is a silver lining though, since the bolt is significantly slower than a bullet. It has to be lead if they want to hit something. So if I can just outpace their reaction ti—

I peeked out of the tent's cover for a split second, and found one!

phweeEEE

And I know for a fact he thinks the tent is a good enough obstruction for a revolver. Not a concertina bomb though, pitching the thing all I can hope is that it doesn't prematurely open on me.

.

.

…sshinkkrr "AaaAhg- Yob materi vashi!"

I'm guessing I hit the—

My train of thought has just been broken as I hear a similar squelch to the one before… Shit behind me!

Turning my gun to the sound, relief fills me as it's thankfully just Ashley.

"…Thanks for the assist, Ash."

All I get is a thumbs up in return.

"So there's at least three left. Didya' see any on the way in?"

She shakes her head.

…

"I'm assuming blindly scouting with your wire is an extreme waste of energy so… how the hell do ya suppose we bait them out of cover when they know our exact location?"

She takes a pause and then responds, smokey air with a tinge of wet iron drift now drifting over us.

Nodding confidently, she begins to sketch a quick diagram in the snow with her foot, depicting a vaguely humanoid shape made out of squiggly lines.

I stare at her in confusion before the meaning of her drawing hits me.

"A… decoy?" I raise an eyebrow at her.

Thumbs up.

"And how do you propose that? I mean it doesn't even have a solid shape, or clothes for that matter?"

She then proceeds to… piss me off by drawing a hat on it…

…You absolute critter, my hat of all thi-

"Fine…" I facepalm in irritated acceptance.

Handing it over I watch as she moulds wire to a convincing look alike shape and then places the hat over top. Now if they would be so kind to take the bait…

I prepare to take the right flank. Tapping on Ashley's shoulder, I gesture for her to raise it in four.

Three…

Two…

One…

Peek!

Nothing—Shit, there's two!

Seeing the angle in which the two arrows were shot, it was easy to discern where they came and rushed out of cover.

Not a moment wasted before I quickly rush out to their location, unfortunately leaving my now ruined hat behind. As I began my approach to the last few rows, I unexpectedly spotted a third in my peripheral, who was quite literally right behind our initial tent.

Too late to react, the searing pain of a bolt piercing my bicep, causes me to drop the knife in pain. Not willing to give them a second chance, I do my best to put the pain at the back of my mind and immediately turn to give chase and render the fucker into dead meat before he can fully turn the corner away.

"Fuck me…"

There is still two more-

BANG thud.

One more left.

Can't let them go. Otherwise, we'll be the next to cash in.

…

I hear the coil of the compound a few tents ahead. I won't let up;

…

I've got you now. Snapping my arm into position, I fire a shot and… I fucking missed!

Deciding to fan the last bullet in my panic. I nail them in the chest, causing a feminine scream to be let out.

This is it!

Closing the last few steps a partially loaded crossbow was knocked out of her hands, causing me to make the greatest blunder I should have known.

Close Quarters Combat.

By the time I regained my senses I was lying on the ground. We traded punches, looking up I see that she only has a minor cut on her lip. With a surprised look turning smug and full round ears topping her head like a crown.

This cowardly bear then decided to raise their arms in the air and mock me. Heavy Ursine accent in tow;

"Wait, that's all?"

Raising the gun I had in my hand she quickly wiped the grin off her face, but because I failed to reign in my pride. It put me in an even more disadvantageous position, she was on top.

Quickly trying to get out from under I quickly sent my best uppercut to her chin which landed but the effort was to no avail. As not only did she completely ignore the punch but also seized the gun from my hands. Still trying to buck out from under she pointed the gun at my head.

"Any last words, faux beastboy?"

Not bothering to stop the struggle I simply respond

"Fuck. You."

Click

I knew it was empty, that was my best opportunity to get out.. I'm f-

"Fuck. Me? HA? You are funny! If not the most pathetic man I have ever seen, even a child can punch harder than you. And with the cute hat rebel mask too? It's kind of adorable, actually what is under the mask..? Hmm?"

No, No! This is too humiliating! No way! Stop! Get off Me!

Despite my increased struggle and the fact that I was holding the offending hand they still managed to grab my mask.

"Now, the great reveal is here everyone! Let us see who this joker really is under th- ooh! Wow actually now. You are kinda cute… You know what? I might actually just take you with me. A-" I spit at her face, but force wasn't enough to reach her.

"Who the fuck do you think you are boy." Getting headbutted in the nose, the only thing I can do is painfully groan. Hurry up, Ashley… Come on! She should be nearby, where the fuck is she!?

"Agh, damnit. Sorry, was it too soon to swap spit with a pretty lady like you ma'am." Keep stalling…

Don't tell me she died back there. Oh shit this looks like my curtain call. Wait a moment, this can't be it. I can't end like this. I can get out of this. I will live!

"Ah, the accent too! Aren't you just an adorable faker? Alright then since you're a funny kid. I'll entertain you! Better catch it all otherwise… I'm going to cut off all your limbs and feed them to you while you bleed to death. Aww cute you're trembling, now open up~."

Shit, she listened? This is it, Here we go take the bait! Take the bait!

She hovers over me and opens her mouth. Letting the most disgusting line of drool come out.

Unable to let the mixture of fear, disgust, and stress seep from my face. Raising my head I slowly tilt my hand and open my mouth wide.

Steady, Steady. You have her! Hook, Line, and—

I lurch forward.

The taste of iron fills my mouth as I enclose my arms around her body. With what strength I've left, I begin thrashing my head around without letting go, the sound of her flesh tearing somehow overwhelms her screams.

I pull.

Doing my hardest to not let her escape. My eyes flinch closed in reaction to the amount of hits I'm tanking. Her body violently spasms above me, either desperately striking me in retaliation or attempting to get away from my jaws. The snow under my back grows warm with her blood.

I push.

With what little of everything I had left, all of my limbs pushed against her body. Trying to rip out her throat was a slow, loud, and messy process. Her elastic skin ripped. Her muscles tore. Her veins and arteries pulled and severed.

I could barely see through the blood.

She struggles and desperately tries to do… anything, at this point. But it was clear that the blood loss was starting to take effect, not to mention the amount of blood that must be filling up her lungs. Her sluggish punches grow weaker by the moment and a horrible gurgling noise begins to replace her noises. She was already dead, and we both knew it.

Throwing her weakening body off of me, I raise a foot over her mess of a neck and stomp with all I could, sharply twisting to finish it.

…

…

…

It's over.

I spit out the severed throat and cough out as much as possible. The bloody mess was in my mouth for so long, I nearly forgot to breathe.

Looking back at the body, I realise something.

Ashley might be dead. She didn't show up and hasn't shown up yet. Looking at it from a technical view, she probably isn't much in a direct confrontation.

Hastily, I grab my Scottfield from the ground and break it open. The spent casings eject all at once and fall to the ground in unison.

My hand reaches into one of my pouches of ammo and begins to painstakingly reload my gun. I'm not slow at it, but oh, how I've wished to own one of those speed loaders sometimes.

As the gun snaps closed, I cock it in time for—

"Oh finally…" I sag a little bit, gun lowering down to my side.

Ashley runs up to me uninjured with my hat and romero in tow, but she is more clearly distressed about my condition; and the amount of blood everywhere.

"Don't worry, most of it ain't mine." I felt my broken nose once I tried to put my bandana back on. Cursing slightly, I decide to reset it. Or at least attempt it, not really doing much good considering how badly in shape my arms are currently.

She gives me an incredulous look as she approaches. Clearly not taking my bullshit right now, to which she grabs my face and closely examines.

After a quick and painful moment my nose is back in place but she still isn't done yet and currently fiddling with her wire working to remove the barbs within.

"Ash', what exactly are ya' planning— ooh a brace, thank you kindly." Still don't know where the hell she was for that while; Whatever I'll ask her later.

After finishing everything up and fitting the bandana back on. There is only one pressing matter left for the moment.

"Well alright then, let's go meet up with the rest of the gang, shall we?" I raise my gun up to the ready, Ashley gives me a smile.

First part;

Written By: Alviunt

Edited By: Impurity/Eidolic

Fight Scene;

Written by: Impurity/Eidolic

Edited By: Alviunt

Discord Server Code: tRXv2bDNWp