He grips his wound, voice cracked, unsure—"Backup… anyone… I can't endure." Static answers, cold and afar. As darkness hums beneath his scars.
Mori fell to his knees, arrows lodged in his jaw, his face, his body—nearly 13 in all. Blood poured from a gaping hole in his chest, his breath coming in short, broken rasps.
As he made a call for help.
Somewhere far from the battlefield.Slot machines chimed in the background. Neon lights flickered. Laughter echoed.It looked like a regular casino lounge… until the phone rang. The mood dropped instantly.
And there they stood, four men at the summit of the world. Four of the ten Elite Guards swore directly to the President himself.
Lives defined by rise and fall.
Actualized talent of the highest level. Skills mixed with a work ethic that allowed them to surpass their limits countless times. Hearts of steel, forged through countless setbacks. A lifetime of effort spent forging a single sword.
Their swords always aimed beyond the horizon.
A red-haired teenager, #10, froze mid-laugh. The shy and slightly feminine person whispered, "A call came through the encryption?" he asked, voice shaking. "Is it… the President?"
"No, Number Ten," slurred a slower, deeper voice. Darkened, #9, lounging on a velvet chair, didn't even look up from his drink. "The President would never call us. It's probably… 'her.'"
#8, Rufus, face paint and all, leaned over and wrapped an arm around #10, tousling his hair playfully. "She did say she liked your pretty red hair, didn't she?" he teased, smiling like a wolf. "You can tell us. Did she groom you?"
#9, Darkened, the creepy, lanky, and awkward man, seemed to have a soft spot for #10. He lowered his voice and said quietly, "Oi, calm down. It's not a joke. I wouldn't let that happen to him."
The phone kept ringing.
#10 placed a kiss on the cheek of #9 as he awkwardly said, "T-thank you?" Not knowing how to react to #9's "concern," he did what he was taught by his mother.
Across the table, #6, Epicurus, looked up from his cards, face tight with concern, his crown and cloak marking him as the clear leader of this group. "You do remember our contract says our conversations may or may not be recorded, right?" He glanced at #8. "I think you're trying to get us all killed."
#8, Rufus, put his hands in the air casually. "Alright, alright. I'm sorry." He exhaled, then muttered, "But let's not pretend we don't know the truth."
Darkened whispered, "I do think the President gives her too much power."
Epicurus whispered, "It's because of her ability. It's simply too much..."
Darkened and Epicurus averted their eyes, both clearly aware. Neither spoke.
Epicurus thought to himself, I have relationships with Rank 2 and even Rank 1, but Rank 5, that woman is... It's hard to be comfortable even speaking about her.
#10 looked toward Epicurus. "Won't you be replacing her as #5 soon… Epi-kun?"
But Epicurus didn't respond.He just stared at the ringing phone, still unanswered.
The phone rang again.
#10 put his hands on his ears as his anxiety reached its peak. Realizing the phone was going off and nobody was paying attention to it, the call ended. No one picked up.
Epicurus, realizing the call had ended, almost shat himself. He spat out his food as he comically ran over to the phone, calling back, showing extreme seriousness and responsibility.
As he sweated, he held the phone close to his face.
#10 sighed softly, the tension hanging heavy.
When Mori picked up, he whispered faintly, "Help me." He sent his coordinates.
Rufus broke out in a cold sweat. "Mori? Wait, did he actually do it? Impossible?"
As his heart sank into his ass, his turquoise mascara almost melted off his face as he sweated. 'I thought it was a suicide mission? Is the God Stick really that powerful..'
#10 nervously bit his fingernails. "Are you okay?"
A vein popped in Mori's head. 'No, I'm not okay. The fuck? Why would you ask that? I don't even have the energy to say that out loud, man.'
As Epicurus tried not to laugh, "He fought Osprey." (pause) "And he's still breathing."
#10: "Woah.... really..."
Darkened: 'He doesn't even know what we're talking about.'
As Darkened took the phone, he asked the important question. "Is Osprey dead? We're coming to get you. Stay alive."
Mori hesitated. "I defeated him. He's incapacitated, likely dead, but I couldn't confirm it. He's too far away. I can't walk right now."
Blood leaked from his mouth as a large volume erupted from his face. He thought, 'Is it possible that those arrows were laced? My blood won't clot.'
As Mori ran cold, losing too much blood, he wheezed, riddled with holes. "I can't confirm the kill."
Epicurus: "Oh.... lol. Okay, no problem. Good work, Mori. As promised, Elite Guard Rank 2 will grant you the spot of Elite Guard Rank 7."
Rufus, frustrated, got up from his seat and walked closer to the call, visibly furious. "What absolute nonsense. Not a confirmed kill? No corpse to show? Just because he has a great weapon doesn't mean he's a great fighter, much less a great leader."
He stopped just short of Epicurus, his voice low but clear. "Bullshit."
Epicurus's gaze lifted. His voice was colder now. "Speak up."
Rufus adjusted the cuff of his sleeve, keeping his posture relaxed, but his words cut sharp.
"It is I who has been in the organization for 5 years,
It is I who helped unify the peace treaty between Italy and the United States,
It is I who is a great asset to this organization.
Brute force does not keep this country running. Politics does.
I keep it running!"
Rufus threw off his short black coat from around his neck.
"I don't make the rules," Epicurus said. "Mori accepted the mission. The reward was the #7 seat. If that bothers you, take it up with #2. He handles placements."
Tension rose in the air at the mention of Elite Guard Rank #2.
Then Epicurus slowly walked forward, leaning in just slightly, his tone lowering. "Unless you want to challenge the decision right here."
Rufus pushed him to the side, not biting his bait. "I do not wish to fight you. I simply seek an equal opportunity to promote, just like everyone else."
.....
Epicurus held Rufus's hand that tried to push him away as there was a slight awkward silence.
Epicurus burst out laughing so hard his spit went all over Rufus's face.
"You? Rank 7? You're pathetically weak—"
Rufus threw a punch and ducked low, charging in for a double leg takedown. However, Epicurus's hand found itself right in Rufus's face as he simply whispered,
"If you grapple me, I'm going to stab you to death."
Rufus backed off and got into his stance. "I'd break your arm into 100 pieces before you can try."