"They are coming from under the ground!"
The earth exploded into a geyser of dirt merely two inches off Henry's thigh. A hand with a dagger shot out from the raised dirt, heading straight for the vital spot just below his right knee.
'Fuck!'
Kicking himself to the back with his left, Henry used the height advantage he had over the emerging enemy, striking at where his head should be with his right.
The desperate tactic worked… but not for everyone.
All over the supposedly safe field, Henry's soldiers were dealing with the enemies appearing out of nowhere, everyone in their own, unique fashion.
Some succeeded, warding off the blades with kicks, brass knuckles, or the butts of their guns. At this distance, in this crowd, in the middle of the formation, a single bullet would cut down more allies than enemies anyway.
'At this rate…' Henry whipped his head to the side, scanning the entire battlefield and taking just two seconds to think everything through.
The formation was falling apart. His men engaged in one-on-one close quarters where it was personal skill and ability that settled the score.
"Guys, have you never pacified a messy riot?" Henry asked out loud, shaking his leg as he looked over to his two NCOs.
Unlike the rest of his unit which consisted mostly of mercenaries hastily arranged by the megacorp, he had fought with the two before. And their shared experience from the corporate game of blood and shadows allowed the three to understand each other on the go.
"Got ya," Pete, Henry's second in command, smiled grimly. He then turned on his heel and shouted, "Everyone! Tight Front and march them down!"
By now, most of the ambushers had come out of the ground, dissolving into a myriad of small, personal fights amidst Henry's unit.
Yet, as his men followed the call, the situation quickly changed.
The tribal warriors were absolute masters of their crude blades. And to honor their own skill, they obviously sought glory, the pride of slaying their enemies in the most humiliating way!
On the contrary, after a mere few moments of chaos, Henry's troop tightened its formation, quickly tearing all the enemies inside of it into pieces. Then, they developed their formation to the sides, spreading as far as they could without breaking the thin but tight front.
For a second, the time appeared to stop.
The tribal warriors stood against a thin but long and extremely pressed line of pissed-off soldiers.
"Step!" Pete took charge of timing the pace. "Step!" he shouted from the bottom of his lungs, directing the entire unit as it moved forth.
"Step!"
The warriors rushed forth, refusing to give up the advantage of momentum. But, as they charged in… The situation changed.
Now, they didn't find a single honorable duel. None of Henry's soldiers stepped up for the challenge alone. And whenever a tribesman got close enough, he could count on his buddies next in line to help him out.
There was no personal glory… for there was no need for it.
And as it turned out, the thin, athletic, and perfectly honed bodies of the tribespeople gave in like twigs when faced with metal-reinforced, combat boots.
"Crush them!"
The ambusher's advantage broke, overwhelmed by the sheer and raw power of the modern soldiers.
Now that all the grace came to shit, their calorie and fat-rich diet proved supreme over the roots and grass the tribal locals of the rift could procure.
The ambush that could easily shatter the corporate expedition ended up as a mere beat-down. And by the end of it, Henry lost just those few men who fell during the initial surprise and then only a few more during the proper clash.
"That almost turned really bad…" Henry muttered, watching how the peace slowly returned to the open field, now that there was no one left to disturb it. And as a wave of relief washed over his face…
[Henry Rickard's memory: Completed. Bonus round!]
The world before Henry's eyes faded… along with his emotions, thoughts, and entire personality. And in their absence, Leonard's consciousness returned to reclaim its rightful spot.
[Replaying the favorite part of the memory]
Relishing in the experience, Leo paid no mind to the disturbing return of his true self, as the lights before his eyes fluttered… Only for the young man to notice himself standing in the field, staring down at the rows upon rows of his own orchards, basking in the light of the nearby red dwarf.
Raising the cup with the local wine, Leo threw the liquid back in one, graceful and well-practiced swing.
This was the memory of Henry's own settlement in one of the rifts, a reward from the megacorporation that sponsored and benefited from his exploits.
Or rather, the lingering ambiance of the world relived by consuming the liquid copy of Henry's Rickard memory.
Feeling the drink pour down his throat, Leo closed his eyes as he enjoyed as much of the moment as he could.
The slightly sour, refreshing, and extremely fruity taste of the wine hit Leo's palate. Was it because the grapes grew under the dim light of the red dwarf star instead of the ordinary yellow sun?
And as the lingering memory started to fade, so did all of its sensory elements.
[Bonus memory over. Thank you for picking our brand!]
The intensity of the liquid memory rapidly dropped, dulling Leo's perception of the world around him.
Then, cracks appeared all over the scene, splitting up Leo's vision into a myriad of shards and then shattering them all over, revealing the bleak reality hidden underneath.
The street was crowded with hoodlums, all either consumed by the liquid memory or desperately trying to relieve those memories without a fresh dose of the precious liquid.
Those memories didn't come cheap, after all.
"Back to the grim reality, huh?" Leo groaned a little, fixing his posture as he shook his head to remove the last of the mental dullness that lingered like a hangover after every shot of the liquid.
And for the first-time user of it, the migraine-like feeling could get pretty overwhelming.
The memory of bright adventures in some world out in the vast pool of alternate universes, down the edge of a probability well, and the silent horror that made up the very fabric of the modern status quo.
'If I can either waste away in this hell hole or die a dog's death in an unknown world…' Leo thought.
He made up his mind long before wasting half of his hard-earned money from working all those illegal jobs at the district's periphery.
It was the biggest bill Leo ever paid, given a younger brother and step-sister he had to provide for all on his lonesome. But, from Leo's point of view, it was also an absolutely necessary expense.
The first thing he did mostly for his own sake ever since their parents just… didn't return home at the end of their shift.
'Well, now that I saw what can be…' Leo thought, before gripping his hands into fists and taking a deep breath.
He held the air in for quite some time, before slowly, gradually letting it out. Prying his eyes open, he cast a long stare out into the darkness of the city's night. And with all the pollution around, even street and house lights drowned in the sea of the thick, impenetrable darkness.
'It's time to face what has to come first,' Leo thought, twisting his entire body in a single, quick shake from its very core.
Leo stood up and patted the dust of his densely-patched sweatpants. He then raised his eyes down the street, where the vague hint of the town's lamppost light guided the steps of travelers lost in the shadowy night of the fifth district.
The world around Leo was changing.
Seven years ago, it was on its last straight before the upheaval of a societal meltdown of a civilization that finally had to pay its dues to the ruined nature they inhabited. With no more resources to be mined, drilled, or in any other way extracted from the planet, human civilization was merely a step from its conclusive end.
Ever since that day, when the eggheads finally cracked the secrets of rift technology, the world started to slowly change.
Near endless streams of cheap, nearly free resources breathed a new life on earth, allowing it to start moving on from the problems of the past as humanity indulged in the new bonanza built by the megacorporations that were quick to exploit the opportunity.
The gold rush that followed continued to this very day, somehow making everyone forget how the constant race to discover all the worlds there were out there, led to the effective genocide of around seventy percent of the total human population.
A process to which Leo made up his mind and decided to surrender his fate.
A gold rush where only one in ten would survive their first trip through the rift, due to its randomized nature and…
"Am I going to die, I wonder?" Leo raised his chin a little as those words escaped his mouth. Walking to where his fate would unveil its true face, he squinted his eyes as a different question intruded upon his thoughts.
'Which corp should I die for, though?'