What was death?
Agent Q smirked as he pondered this musing, his tongue tasting the blood at the corner of his mouth. Adjacent to him was a heap of elf corpses and their drops—
B-grade broadsword, C-grade healing potions, a few D-and E-graded rapiers, and lastly an arsenal.
It had taken about six minutes—this was a record, outmatching his previous one of seven minutes.
[6.7 minutes:
He surveyed the semi-transparent panel in front of him with a sly grin.
Agent Q, forever dauntless; what about death or pain? —the pain would come, the pain would go. For him, that is.
To him, 'death' was the same.
It came, it stayed and that would be the end.
Agent Q picked up the drops and they disappeared into his inventory. He casually began humming the anthem of his homeland. He had forgotten the name of his country as time was enacted and could only remember how dull it had been.
Hmmm... Indeed, it had been one wasted life.
But after being transferred to the Wasteland, he had been 'reborn', in an almost literal way.
Agent Q's eyes took in the glare of the sun, as he chugged down a recovery potion nonchalantly. The wound at his midriff began healing at a perceivable rate. He smiled. Looking at the deep arrow shaft that had dug into his loins, he pulled it out roughly, simultaneously taking a large intake of a healing potion.
After cleaning up, and taking whatever he could find from the forty corpses, he prepared to set out. The Elfin species was a bunch that inclined towards traveling in groups. The most basic unit was a clan. Looking at the elves he had encountered, they were most likely a clan. Haha...terrific.
He whistled with a relaxed look.
If it was a clan, that meant that it had separated from the other clans and they were likely to have decided to gather at some point in time.
He moved quickly to the helicopter and found what he had hoped for—a grenade. He was fortunate to have found this little toy. It now saved him the trouble of burning up the corpses one by one.
Agent Q was just about to remove the pin when, from the corner of his eye, he saw a slender figure shifting through the dense flora in the woods. He cursed and unhooked the rifle from his back, swiftly aiming the nozzle at the unknown creature approaching from the woods.
He was ready to kill in a flash, but something about this particular opponent made his eyes glint. His finger inches from the trigger dropped. His one good eye widened as it fathomed the figure as it strode gracefully to stand in the bare sun.
A woman—no, goddess. No, she was not an elf, but an angel? Ah, no, the angels went extinct ages ago and this one lacked wings but she might be a Fallen? Uh, no. So let's conclude with the premise that she was a goddess.
A goddess, yes—her eyes were bright yet frighteningly frosty and her black satin hair flowed down her slender back fluidly like a river. He saw no end to her long, slender feet and her ankles—well, he had never seen such beautiful ankles! Please do not misunderstand; he had no perverted fetish for ankles, uh...did he? It seemed he was developing one... A fire rose deep in his pupils as a sleeping dragon was awoken. The dragon was ready to fly.
Agent Q blinked, regaining his wits just in time to see the goddess swiftly pace back and raise her bow, with an arrow safely in her grasp and ready to shoot. Her attractive black eyes narrowed at him coldly and interrogated, "Who are you? Identify yourself, otherwise, heads will roll."
Well, ain't she a spitfire.
He held back a swoon.
Something about her tone told him she wasn't joking, but her half-smile brought down his guard. "I am Agent Q," his voice steeled slightly, "a senior colonel from the Human Army's Special Forces." The answer came out of his mouth so fluidly, that he didn't realize he had revealed himself until he finished.
Oliver lowered her bow with slight relief. So he was human...
She looked around and arched a brow at the sight of the heap of corpses at the side. "Those are..."
"Elfin," he replied plainly, examining her. "You seem to be new here. Are you newly recruited?" Glancing at the smooth bear fur coat that was hanging from her shoulders to flow down before reaching her knees, Agent Q realized that she was most likely a newly disseminated human with powers.
"... Recruited? No, I was sitting in my office when, next thing I knew, I was here. Is this where all the disappeared people go...the 'Wilderness'?" she asked, fishing out a sharp stone from her cloak. Squatting, she cut out the uneven parts of her handmade bow before straightening her back.
Agent Q was intrigued by her words; she was an immigrant? When was the last time someone was brought into this wilderness...30? 40 - or was it 50 years?
They had grown tired of counting the years because their hands were full trying to survive.
'In any case,' Agent Q surmised seriously, 'I have to report this to base; that there's been a human immigrant sighted for the first time in decades!'
The young woman tilted her head curiously at Agent Q's silence. The bulky man snapped out of it and explained seriously with a small frown, "Miss...ahem, apologies, I didn't catch your name."
"Evelyn," Oliver lied with a straight face.
"Yes, Miss Evelyn," he began, somewhat liking the ring of her 'name'—how it rolled off his tongue especially... no, no, Q, get your head in the game! Ugh, little dragon, this is seriously not the time for a pep talk!
"This is not a safe place for new immigrants; this is...erm, Elfin territory... - uh... anyways, I will explain all of this to you later, but we must first find shelter before darkness creeps in," Agent Q enunciated, his thoughts a little jumbled up from the turn of events. A safe place? Was it even possible to find such a rarity in this hell-hole?
"Please wait a moment," he added with a wry smile on his face.
Agent Q began moving to the crashed helicopter - the grenade, the machine gun...everything was still as he had left it. He took everything he could find and fortunately discovered a duffel bag that he could use.
Finally ready, he turned and found Oliver still standing where he had left her, ogling at him expressionlessly with her clear black eyes.
"Are you in need of any help?" she suddenly asked.
Agent Q was fiddling with his not-so-optimistic thoughts when he heard her. Help? From her - a new immigrant who had no idea of what lied in wait? He might as well commit suicide right then!
"Help is welcome. However, the truth is, there's not much either of us can do in this situation besides attempting to survive," he said. He didn't want to make her worry but that was the truth. She would have to come to terms with that reality sooner or later, so best it was now.
Oliver remained unfazed. She blinked and asked, "So, you 'do' require some assistance. Well then, are you willing to make a bargain with me?"
Agent Q looked back at her with deep curiosity and slight amusement then urged her to continue.
Oliver put her hands behind her back and explained, "If you help me gain a good foothold in this...wasteland, I'll offer you food, shelter, water and also assist you in returning to your base, Soldier Q. Of course, all of this only stands in the prerequisite that you cooperate and do not hinder my activities."
Agent Q's eyes narrowed. He realized that the little fairy may be a demoness. He didn't know how to put it, but something about her was out-of-the-ordinary—not her beauty but something innate. He looked into her eyes and saw a blinding light within them—a kind of light he had only ever seen in one person...
"To which extent must I help you? Please know that I won't blindly offer my life in the case of disaster," Agent Q replied with a hardened gaze. This time, he had begun seriously assessing Oliver.
"It is just as I said. However, of course, I will not allow any amount of danger to result in either of our deaths. That, I can give to you as a fact," she said confidently. There was no emotion in her face but her voice was firm and inexplicably led the man to believe that he could depend on every word she said and take it as an oath. The reasoning behind this feeling was unfounded, by all means, however, he felt that he could rely on it.
Agent Q was a man who followed his gut over anything. Even death would not plant fear in him so what of gambling with this little stranger's overconfident words? Taking risks was his cup of tea each day, and he never got enough of it.
Oliver waited patiently for an answer. Whether or not he accepted, she had a plan B, a Plan C, and even a Z for every outcome. It would not even be a surprise to her if he turned against her there and then. Everything would still be within her control. Oliver shut her eyes calmly, her deliberations stilling.
Suddenly, Agent Q laughed, his deep voice echoing in the vicinity and causing some small critters to scamper away into their hatchets. Oliver opened her eyes composedly and looked at the burly man as he unhooked the colossal machinegun strapped on his wide back. His eyes were dripping with bloodlust.
"Sorry darling, but this boy is a hungry wolf," he smirked widely but his casual and fun-filled tone impressed the sense of danger's onset.
Oliver was silent and expressionless, her placid eyes following his every movement. A half-smile shone on her beautiful face as she got ready for the beginning battle.
'This is going to be interesting. Indeed, I had not made the wrong decision by choosing this man.'
Now, kindly don't lose too soon with me.
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