Xuan Shang's heart thuds in his chest, hard.
"I've been called many things in my lifetime, but demon is a first," he muses, tilting his head towards the side in contemplation. Despite his relaxed and languid demeanour, his muscles are tensed and ready to respond in a split second.
The gunmetal is cold against his forehead. Hahn's eyes, like her aim, is unwavering.
"You are not Milton."
The absolute conviction in her voice causes her companions to frown. They understand her character and know that she is not the type to make false accusations, but how can that not be Milton? The face, figure, voice - even the trashy attitude - is all the same.
The other girl steps up and tugs at Hahn's sleeve hesitantly.
"S-Shana, let's not go overboard..."
"Bella, don't," Cross hisses.
They ignore her.
"Am I not?" Xuan Shang says with a faint smile.
"No. If you were him, you would have fainted already."
Xuan Shang turns to Cross with an exaggerated sigh. "Everyone's a critic nowadays," he complains, causing goosebumps to break out over Cross' arms. He turns back to Hahn. "If you must know, I prefer to do my swooning close to a bed or couch. Softer landing and all. But if you really want... I can certainly give it my best shot."
BANG!
Fragments of rock explode mere inches in front of his face, cutting jagged grooves into his cheek. Xuan Shang carelessly swipes it away with the back of his hand, noting the sting and dark red blood on his skin with interest. This is the most realistic dream he's had in a while.
"Was that the signal? Sorry, I wasn't prepared. Let's try that again."
Cross' forehead suddenly breaks out into cold sweat. He's the one who hates Milton and had come up with this plan - so why is Hahn the one suddenly going crazy? He can't see this ending in anything other than Milton's brains splattered all over the ground.
"Those crazy bastards..."
Hahn's finger taps in warning against the trigger. "What is your name?" she repeats again.
Xuan Shang smiles, but before he can speak -
"Do you hear that?" Bella says suddenly. She turns hesitantly towards the periphery of the clearing several meters away, where the trees form a dense curtain and gnarled roots entangle into the undergrowth. Xuan Shang furrows his brow and squints into the darkness. He cannot see anything except shadows, tree branches rattling like dried finger bones in the northern wind, but on some distant level he can sense that something is there.
A howl pierces through the silence. It is the sound someone would make when being slaughtered, that unrestrained cacophany of pain and rage and fear, loud enough that his ears ring. It does not mean anything to Xuan Shang, but the other three tense, cold sweat breaking out on their faces along with horrified surprise.
"A... W-Walker..." Bella whispers.
"It's still some distance away," Hahn says tensely, turning away from Xuan Shang and walking closer to Bella. "We need to get back to the Academy. The instructors can handle it. If not, the Elites from Division One..."
"But how did it break through the Walls?" Cross says. His face is bleak and pale in the dim moonlight. There is little trace of his previous arrogance and pride.
Bella shakes her head. "T-The Sentry would have spotted them. It can't be from beyond the Walls."
"Then... it was released from the Academy? There's a traitor?"
"It could have been an accident," Bella says, but even she sounds doubtful.
A second howl joins the first. Even Hahn pales.
"We need to go!"
Hahn sucks in a deep breath, her eyes widening. "No...! It's too late!"
The trees surrounding them explode in a cascade of wooden splinters. A dark, hunched figure lopes out of the shadows, blue eyes glowing in the darkness with the intensity of a predatory feline, saliva dripping from his mouth. His skin is as white as a corpse's with thick black veins protruding from his neck and temples, and with each rasping breath, his body undulates up and down, black nails carving furrows into the ground. Ugly pustules and cysts had formed on his hairless head in lumps.
The Walker.
Xuan Shang takes a step backwards. "What... is that..." he breathes.
At the sound of his voice, the Walker's eyes snap to his, lighting up like a starving man seeing a steak dinner.
There are numbers burned onto his forehead, the skin still inflamed and peeling around the wounds.
W5-0183.
Hahn opens fire. The first volley misses and slams into the trees with small explosions of dust as the Walker swings to the side with an agility that seems impossible for his body. Arms extending as though braced for a hug, he launches himself off the ground, black nails gleaming.
"Bella, down!"
Cross swings his knife wildly to ward off the Walker from Bella, who flinches and almost falls as she trips over a rock. As Xuan Shang stares in their direction, a sudden premonition overcomes him and he opens his mouth to shout, but it's too late.
The second Walker...!
Like a steel trap, an arm locks around his waist, the other snaking over his mouth and muffling his protest, before it starts dragging him backwards into the woods. He thrashes against the grip but it is impossible to break free. His arms are lashed tightly against his sides, and as he claws his fingers awkwardly at any free skin he can reach, sour smelling blood spills over his hands and stains the ground in thick black splotches. Warm, foul breath tickles the back of his neck.
Without hesitation, he chomps down on the hand over his mouth until he can taste blood and the gritty sensation of bone and torn tendons. The second Walker whips his hand away with a sharp hiss, and granted a short reprieve, Xuan Shang gasps in an uneven breath and croaks out, "Help..."
It's pitifully quiet, but they hear him. He can see their eyes widen in horror when they turn around.
"Shit!" Cross curses. He takes a step forward, but almost immediately, the first Walker leaps forward and obstructs his path. Hahn hesitates, her eyes flitting between her teammate and Xuan Shang, before something flickers in her expression and she turns away, her gun peppering rounds into the shoulders of the Walker harrassing Cross, who shrugs them off like mosquito bites.
A palm crushes his face backwards, no modicum of gentility left, causing him to choke on air and foul tasting blood. Black spots flash over his vision as his airway is obstructed. His wild struggles slowly die down into weak tremours, and his head lolls limply to the side, glassy eyes reflecting the moon.
The hand slowly lets go of his face and wraps around his waist as well, dragging him through the rough forest ground.
Xuan Shang fades in and out of consciousness, brief snatches of the scene registering in his mind before fading away. The smell of wet loam. The smell of branches cracking underfoot. The jarring pain of his forehead smacking against a tree. It is almost dreamlike in quality, and yet there is an element of uncertain reality grounding it.
There is something that he is...
There is something that he needs to...
(Xuan Feng's sad eyes resonate in his memory - he whispers - )
When his mind suddenly clears, his body moves faster than it ever has before. In an explosive movement, Xuan Shang wraps his fingers around a jagged rock embedded in the ground and smashes it into the Walker's with enough force that bone shatters and soft, wet tissue spills through his fingers. He falls onto the ground and immediately rolls out of reach.
The Walker stumbles backwards and howls.
There is a brand on his forehead as well: W5-0002. The wound on his temple bleeds sluggishly, bits of bone and grey matter dropping out in chunks. Black blood stains the side of his face and his arms up to the elbow.
"Why did you capture me?" Xuan Shang demands.
The Walker's eyes roll back in his head until only the whites show, his mouth gaping open so large that his jaw dislocates. Saliva oozes out, dripping in thick, yellow ropes onto the ground.
The attack is incredibly fast, almost impossibly so. Despite his thick, muscular build, he weaves through the trees with alarming agility, one arm swinging towards him fast enough to leave afterimages. Xuan Shang flings himself to the side, the blow just scraping past his cheek, powerful enough to blow his hair away from his face. He rears his fist back, his shoulders straining as he uses every bit of force to pulverize the rock into the Walker's nose. Cartilage breaks and a torrent of blood flows through.
The rock shatters, fragments lodged in his palm, his knuckles broken and bleeding.
Weaving beneath the next blow, Xuan Shang uses his remaining hand to grab onto the branch of a tree, tearing it off with a splintering of wood. He holds it in front of him like a spear, jabbing first at the head, then the exposed underbelly when the Walker moves to guard his face. Their battle destroys the landscape, tearing up chunks of soil larger than Xuan Shang's head, obliterating old trees into scraps.
He doesn't know how long he spends in that fight. It could have been merely a few minutes or half an hour. But it soon becomes a battle of attrition, one that Xuan Shang is quickly losing. Small and large cuts appear over his arms and torso, dying his previously white shirt into dark crimson. His lungs burn with every uneven gasp of air and his arms tremble as he blocks another overhead slash. He will die if this continues.
As the Walker surges forward, arms extended in a motion that would disembowel him entirely, Xuan Shang pours all of his remaining energy into a leap. Gracefully, he arcs into the air, jettisoning off the trunk of a tree. He can feel the tips of the claws scrape along his flank - not deep enough to kill, but more than enough to hurt. He lands upside down in the air with one hand on top of the Walker's head, balancing precariously before he twists his entire body and lands on the Walker's shoulders.
"Die!" he gasps out, and slams the wooden stake through the Walker's mouth.
It takes several more blind thrusts before the Walker staggers, and like a century old tree finally cut down by a lumberjack, falls to his knees with a ground-shaking roar and collapses, face first, into the dirt.
Soon, it is silent again.
Xuan Shang's fingers are locked around the wood. It takes several moments to regain the ability to release his grip, one stiff finger at a time. The skin of his hands is entirely shorn off, and his arms tremble with a bone-deep ache. As if the end of battle evaporates all of the adrenaline in his body, the various wounds and gouges scattered over him immediately begin to throb. He tries to stand up, but staggers, bracing one shoulder against a tree as his knees threaten to give out. His chin falls onto his chest, eyes furrowed shut, as he tries to get enough air into his lungs to banish the black curtain steadily falling over his vision. A sharp, piercing pain radiates through his chest, making him press his fist against it.
Just as he's considering whether it would be appropriate to pass out, the sound of slow claps breaks through the silence.
Xuan Shang whirls around, but there is no one there. There is a soft chuckle, then the whistle of something fast travelling through the air. A branch impales itself into the ground at his feet. It hits with enough force that only the last few inches stick out, quivering back and forth.
"Up here," comes a cheerful voice.
There is a woman perched on a high tree branch, approximately seven or eight meters in the air. She is leaning forward slightly, her palms braced on either side to keep balance, legs swinging casually back and forth in the air. She is dressed in a skin-tight black suit that covers her entire body, stopping only at her wrists and bottom of her chin. Over top, she wears a contoured vest made with a thick, knife-resistant material that protects her torso, along with thigh guards made of a similar material. The butt of a rifle peeks out from behind her left shoulder, and three knives are sheathed around her hips.
There is a scientist's white lab coat slung over her shoulders, incongruent to the sleek killing force that the rest of her uniform radiates.
"Very impressive," she praises, her eyes curving into happy crescents. Despite the friendliness she displays, Xuan Shang almost feels as if there is something wrong with her character, as if her closed-eye smile hides the insanity of a beast. "It's rare to see a civilian taking down a Walker without any training. Say..."
She kicks her heels off of the branch, does a neat somersault, and lands on her feet only several inches away, clear cobalt eyes staring intently into his.
"...Do you wanna join the Academy? What's your name, kid?"
Xuan Shang takes a few steps back to put some distance between them, each movement slow and sluggish. He doesn't forget that she was probably sitting up there the whole time, watching with interest as he fought for his life. To her, this was nothing more than a game.
"No thanks."
Her bottom lip sticks out.
"Oh, don't be so quick to say no! Think about some more. You'd get a personal recommendation from me. Do you know how many would wish to be in your shoes?"
Xuan Shang blinks the black spots from his eyes and squints as if it would resolve his confusion, but he still doesn't recognize her.
"Who are you?"
The woman blinks, as if puzzled by his lack of recognition, but soon regains her wide grin. She inclines her waist and presses her hand over her heart in a standard, if elaborate, bow.
"Second-in-command Lieutenant-Commander Beris Whyte of the Division One Alliance Military, at your service."