01 / 04 / 2019 - ???????, ???????????????
"Ah…"
His face slowly contorted, eyes squinted as the pain registered late after immediate shock.
'It hurts…'
That's all he can tell; body hunched as he could hear a rattling sound behind him, looking down — a silver sword is sticking out of his abdomen.
Lips opened as he tried to breathe, but couldn't; instead, he groaned like he was learning to talk for the first time, tearing the contracted muscle.
'No….'
"Haahhh…"
Gritting his teeth, through the narrow squint as tears welled up, ferocity flashed, his mouth upturned amidst the burning hot sensation of pain.
As even in this situation, his mind didn't stop thinking — or maybe by thinking, could he stay alive in this situation?
React fast, even if it all happens in a moment.
His right hand moved into the deep inner pocket, feeling the cold grip of the weapon. He pulled it and then let his body lean forward.
While his free left hand held the cold, straight silver blade transmitted to his palm, along with the sharp pain that cuts his skin, as blood dyed the silver red even more.
Thump
The loud shot echoed across the empty street, his wrists snapped, along with the echo far away through the buildings and pillars around him, but for now, all that mattered was surviving the moment.
By firing a point-blank shot below his armpit to get out of the sword.
"Ughh… sob"
Eyes winced in pain, and he sobbed for a bit, leaving one eye open in a blur.
The vibration of the shot traveled through, shaking the metal embedded in his body, letting out a buzz of noise.
'Shit…'
Knowing that this buzzing metal from the recoil would probably worsen the wound, again, he couldn't spare enough care for his condition right now.
Thud
Feeling the knife loosen in the handle behind him and the sound of falling, he didn't need to know whether the enemy was dead or not; at the very least, the hilt had loosened.
And that's what he was aiming for — he pulled the gun and, using the momentum of the push, fell forward onto the stone ground.
'This is the most efficient way for now…'
Eyes bloodshot, he could only hope for one thing at this moment: that he could redirect or correct the angle of the sword straight into the concrete and push it out from behind.
Shck
Breathing hard, he lifted his head, smiling though in pain; through his blurry gaze, he lifted his body precariously to free his bloody left palm that was squeezed under, turning his face to look at his back.
Grabbing the sharp silver edge, his jaw clenched, and with a swift motion, along with a tearing pain as his wound opened up — even without looking down, he could feel a warm gush in his stomach along with breathlessness.
"Haaahhhh…. Hahhhhh…."
ClankClankClank
Swinging his hand, the sword hit the ground; taking back his limping left hand, he placed it on the ground to prop his body — he didn't want to rest, not yet.
Thinking while he tried to stand up, swaying, he could feel dizziness in his head from the loss of blood; there was no more time for this.
Head facing the ground, he looked up at the sky shrouded in lines of red. What is that? He didn't know; his thoughts were confused.
Cold sweat fell like bullets, trickling down as he leaned forward, hands swinging at his sides, and took a step-by-step movement.
Gradually, he took a pace that echoed in this emptiness and darkness.
Facing the front, his vision wobbled. It is unsettling, isn't it? He persisted, and the pace became a run — like a drunk person — and blood flowed like a river.
Silence exists for a certain reason. If a place he identifies as a city is pronouncing this silence, then it could mean two things: danger or death.
'No more in between.'
He held the wound closed with his left hand while walking forward with his blurry gaze. The purpose now is to escape and find a safe place to hide!
And thus, he ran as his life depended on it, tears and snot streaked down his face, blood escaping from his mouth; with every step, his internal organs jolted, his insides loose.
'Anything… as long as it is closed…'
Lifting his heavy eyelids, every movement and thing he did cost more than anything; thinking seemed like a luxury now.
He cherished it; at the same time, he was careless about it.
…
An indefinite amount of time passed unknowingly, his mind oblivious, unable to keep track.
Moving his body to the side of the road,
More blood was spilled, so he was forced to stop. No matter how much pain he could sustain, in the end, his physical body spoke for itself; he needed to stop and rest.
'It seems I'm kinda useless now…'
"Haahhhh… haahhhh… Cough"
Barely holding up, he opened his legs wide and let his two hands prop his body up by the knee.
Sweat, saliva, blood — all kinds of fluid flowed from his body, each drop falling to the brown ground under his gaze.
Mouth agape and vision still blurry; even as he tried to blink or rub it with his blood-stained hands, nothing changed.
Both his mind and his physique were now damaged, influencing each other; both had their functionality reduced by a large margin.
He thought of this deeply. Gasping — breathing was a strain, burning, pain, pain was all he could feel, his eyes bloodshot — and to be noted, this was only the first day.
And now—
He lifted his upper body amidst the feeling of emptiness inside his innards.
'It's not only my body, but my mind…'
Through this, he deduced something — or perhaps knew something — that had quietly been influencing him.
Looking down, he lowered his head, opening his palm slightly; the wound was still the same, perhaps? No…
'It has been much worse…'
Through his hazy perception, his head throbbed, as his right hand, still gripping the gun, pressed his temple hard.
Swaying lightly, he knew — the shape of the sword shouldn't be that wide, considering it small, though the degraded condition of his mind now couldn't analyse its width, which shouldn't be large.
'Something has been affecting me?'
His steps wobbled as he was about to fall, taking a few steps to the left like a drunk man, and stumbled upon an iron railing.
Thud
"Akhhhh…. Haahhhh…."
Leaning on the railing, hitting the cold metal first, the pain in his shoulders awakening him from the stupor. Letting out a scream and then a gasp, he clenched his teeth and pushed his body up.
'Regardless, I must rest….'
If he forced his body further, he didn't know what would happen; perhaps he couldn't even survive to see tomorrow — but he must survive, it was mandatory, he promised them, he promised Irina.
Stabilising his body for a moment, he leaned on the railing and looked around.
His blurry gaze stayed on various pillars in the darkness, briefly illuminated by silver light, though he couldn't make out their details clearly in his current condition.
Yet still, his left hand pressed the wound deeper, earning another jolt of shock that kept him awake. As he had run past many of them, he remembered the specificity of these pillars.
'It is, surely, unique architecture…'
Locking his gaze to the right, there was a ramp or a set of stairs leading upwards. This kind of structure formed a flooring division.
Following it as he looked up, there was another platform — like a cave structure. A smile slowly crept onto his face, his tired eyes narrowed, and the pain couldn't erase his curiosity.
Interesting, but yet.
Trembling, he raised his upper body, swaying, off the railing and looked left and right, awakening from his rest.
He was confused about what to do now. It seemed only now that he realised what kind of safe place he actually needed.
Smiling at how foolish he was, he tried to shake his head out of habit, but it was only a jolt of pain, and the corner of his eyes twitched.
But regardless, he turned and walked to the ramp on the right. Embedded in a pillar or a wall was a place of unknown purpose — whatever it was, he just needed to go inside to find out.
He could only make out a little detail of it with the help of a faint red-orange light from above; he walked unsteadily, slowly ascending, stumbling halfway as he hugged the ramp railing.
Cold wind blew from the south, causing his condition to deteriorate further, and even the jacket he wore seemed as useless as he felt now — another level to empathise with dead things.
"Ha… ha.. cough"
Trying very much to remain awake and conscious, he couldn't keep up further; too much blood had been lost, and he needed to move fast.
Propping himself up, he was not so stubborn and decided to walk with the help of the cold, dusty railings, arriving at the platform above.
'What a trouble…'
Deeper, he couldn't make out a detail of anything — total darkness; apparently there was a larger open space here, and even his sense of scale couldn't make sense of it now.
Still, he stopped, leaned against the railings facing the darkness of the open square along with the same pillars, and breathed steadily.
'Yet, it is the best choice for now….'
Pushing his body off the railings, he began to walk once again — darkness would shield him from any prying eyes.
Stumbling occasionally, he couldn't even feel his legs below the knee anymore, but perhaps he could tell that, by his frequent falling, they were scraped and wounded too.
Ding
Steps once again echoed in the open space, and as he entered the darkness, this time his instinct and body could feel it clearly.
Cough
Breathing hard, the wound worsened — as if darkness was gnawing at him, making the wound larger, along with an undisguised darkness that corroded his mind.
SobSob
"HAhhhh…."
He couldn't handle it anymore; another level of pain was reached, falling to his knee with a clank as it hit the metal ground.
He could only hunch forward like a shrimp while his sobs of growing sting echoed in the emptiness; even then, he couldn't find a moment of comfort at all.
But—
Eyes wide, mouth agape, by instinct —
Looking at the ground, eyes bluish-silver. The world slowed down; processing, analysing, and making decisions completed in milliseconds in his head.
Deactivated. Neural Firing. Late.
Shwick
"Ukhhh…."
With a thud, his body fell sideways to the ground, but instead of registering new pain or shock, he ignored everything and executed the late response that had been planned.
Another jolt. He adjusted his body to lie on his back, raising his right hand along with his left, holding the grip with two hands; the safety clicked open again.
Thump
Hands trembling, both pale and frozen as he aimed at the predetermined location — smoke rising through the muzzle, the deafening echo as the gas chamber exploded rang out once again.
Thud
"Haahhhh…. Hahhhh…"
Hands still raised and body frozen, ragged breathing replaced the silence, and after a while, a smile slowly creased his face as his hands were finally lowered to rest above his stomach.
But—
Before he even had time to fully rejoice at the body falling near his feet, or take a long breath, a voice — animal-sounding — came from the place where he had entered.
A howl.
His head snapped to the right. Amidst the dim area shrouded in orange-red light stood a figure, bringing the scent of flowers and vanilla with its arrival.
Nose wrinkled — the smell of rust and blood — reflected in his hazy, lifeless gaze: a wolf standing on two feet, a black sheet covering it from head to knee, as his eyes lowered.
Through a glimpse of the unconcealed part, its body was radiant white-bluish-silver, reminding him of the moon; but as his body shivered, this moon was perhaps bloody and unkind.
"Ahh…."
Walking slowly in his direction while growling, the light did not radiate — it only collected in itself. The ground did not even reflect its light; it held a dagger in its right hand and a lamp in its left.
'Another kind of trouble…'
The purpose was clear — but this figure was kind enough not to backstab him at this moment; perhaps contempt or a mocking attempt. He lifted his body from the ground and stood up.
'If my body were a machine, there would be many red warnings right now.'
Thinking like this, somehow, he felt his body lighten — a sliver of feeling between this ordeal of pain, in the depths of himself, something familiar.
Gleaming in red, he let out a breath and licked his bloody lips as the two stared at each other, tasting rust and hearing the sound of the tide in his ears.
The double vision and his gaze seemed to stabilise, and his body stood steadily. The confrontation was inevitable, so…
Howl
It bared the dagger in its hand and pounced, marking the first move, and for him —
In his gaze, the dagger swung from the wolf's side and would graze him in seconds. He thought leisurely that it would certainly hurt more, but pain was his friend after all of this.
'Two bullet shots fired, a total of fifteen bullets in one magazine, meaning I have thirteen left.'
'Its speed did not decrease much in this slowed-down state, which means its speed is not relative to humans — beyond humans.'
'Position is in the air while it used one of its legs to dash forward, body low, but with its 2m tall physique, I doubt it will change much compared to my 1.4m tall body.'
'Incoming swing in two seconds on the left. Executing. Deactivate. Firing Neural Response.'
Blood flowed down from his nose, his eyes dim but flickering rapidly — he couldn't sustain the high-level speed of thinking; the brain was under strain after all.
'Dodge.'
That was the decision — choose to learn and adapt under this opportunity, even with his body and life as the bet.
Thus, under his gaze, unknowingly as he thought for just a moment, the dagger was already halfway swung from the right in a diagonal motion upwards.
The wolf's face was hidden beneath the black sheet; he couldn't make out the expression under it, thinking passed, unfortunately.
"Ahh…"
As his body leaned backwards, it was too late; his eyes widened, and with a tearing sound, it grazed his skin and flesh as he was halfway through the dodge.
Another wave of pain — like a blade through butter — cut through his skin seamlessly from his waist, extending to his left shoulder; but even then, he successfully rolled backwards.
No time.
Crouching on his knee, facing the wolf — the world slowed down once again. This time, he could feel his brain shaking as if it wanted to explode at any moment, overheated.
Ignoring the pain, he looked towards the wolf that had begun a new series of acts; it stopped on its former step and raised its lamp in the left hand.
'Rather than lamp…'
Collected enough as he deemed it vital information — it was not a lamp in a sense, since it was an open metal platform with a silver flame inside.
'Silver flame?'
What was the connection of this with the silver light? The two were the same silver and the same colour; furthermore, there was another pressing matter.
'There is a lag after all.'
A lag between execution and neural firing.
Though his body was in shambles, it had been forced to act normally — and again, even if it was normal, it still couldn't keep up with the speed of his thinking, desynced.
'Probably one more time.'
He also couldn't sustain millisecond thoughts like this indefinitely, so he would watch further and see what the wolf wanted to do this time.
'Deactivate.'
The world resumed once again; it raised its left hand, the flame burning brazenly — under his curious and indifferent gaze, compressed into an explosion of white light.
'So that's how it is…'
His eyes winced; amidst the tears and dark marks of exhaustion, he lowered his eyes — there was another small hole in his stomach, and at the moment of impact, he felt it.
A beam of light?
Once again, even in this state, his body felt dissociated and heavy like lead; his energy drained further — enough and not enough.
'Time to attack, no?'
As he lowered his head, there was a gust of wind on his right side, and even without looking up, he knew what it was — one last confirmation.
'The lag should be at either 200ms or 150ms…'
'Incoming impact in two seconds… it will graze once again — left shoulder impaled, right a diagonal cut.'
'Body should lean right, avoiding impact from above. The graze shouldn't be deep.'
'But I can buy time by spending two seconds to raise my hands and complete a point-blank shot.'
One millisecond passed, and as another cycle of decision-making started, the signal unfired, gaze lifeless downwards.
'Should I bet?'
That's an interesting question. His eyes were fully red.
'Assuming at the last second the worst possible outcome is being impaled in the right shoulder — it is still viable.'
'I hope it works. Deactivate. Firing Signals. Point-Blank Shot.'
Back to motion once again; without looking up, right hand raised — the body directly in front of him, he knew the general location well enough and hoped it would be flesh or blood.
Thump
Howl….
Gritting his teeth, eyes bloodshot, he heard the howl and forcefully activated his ability for just a moment — that was all he needed now.
'Half a millisecond. Deactivated. Firing Signals. Empty Magazine!'
Vision blacked out, though sustained by familiar power; the sound of the tide eventually crashed into his mind, and in the last blurry second, his hands were still in motion.
Thump
Thump
Thump
Thump
Resounding again and again, another response overridden, bullets driven, and in the last moment before he fell, the sound of bullets filled his eardrums and jolted his innards.
Silence.