Standing at the entrance to the kitchen of the bar, Anton, along with five other highly-equipped soldiers stood with their assault rifles drawn and their fingers on the trigger, ready, or perhaps even waiting for someone to do something.
He locked eyes with the reverend leader of the Spheks, whose red eyes glistened with a tantalizing hue.
"I will say this only once. All of you drop your weapons, then come out one by one."
The vagrants heeded his command without resistance.
Well, almost.
Somehow, one of them had the guts to, even in such a hopeless situation, disobey and fight. This lone scoundrel raised his firearm high at Anton with a sneer on his face.
"Go to-"
Bullets sprayed and ricocheted throughout the kitchen, etching bullet marks on the walls, ceiling, and floor of the room while a cry of agony resounded.
Then, the corpse dropped to the floor, riddled with holes. Blood pooled out from the sides and painted the previously white flooring red.
Anton continued to stare at the red-eyed man.
"Anyone else?"
Nobody said a word.
Nodding, the soldier whispered a few words to one of his subordinates, who in turn left the room and began making preparations outside.
It didn't take long before a screening system was set up and the captured Spheks slowly passed through it before being taken to some random place, hopefully the war.
Impressively, the red-eyed leader remained cold and unfeeling throughout the process. Not a single instance of his visage or movements gave away a semblance of emotion. That is if the reverend leader had any in the first place. The man simply seemed too perfect to be tied down by the chains of mortal sentiment.
Rising, Mark pulled the brunette up with him and they both made their way to the front of the kitchen room, where Anton waited for them with casual sternness on his face.
He pointed at Mark expressionlessly.
"You could have died there, you know? It would be better if you didn't fall into the hands of people like them anymore. It makes my day a pain, and already having to compete with the red-eyed man is annoying. If there were two..."
He didn't need to finish the explanation for Mark to understand what he meant.
Either way, the Spheks were going somewhere far, far away, where the war rampaged without a definable end. Going to such a place was nearly a guaranteed death in blood.
As for him, he was going to enjoy the rest of this conflict with the brunette, doing nothing but finding jobs to pay him some money for food.
After everything that had happened, from the countless encounters where death was at times a trigger away, the young man eventually came back to the struggle of needing to find gigs to pass the time and make some money.
'Oh right, someone was talking to me.'
Having forgotten what the soldier said, Mark nodded and continued on his way out of the door.
But... he wasn't able to leave.
Anton stood in his direction, dominant, confident, and proud - unwilling to back down from his pursuits.
"I saved both of you, and you're already leaving? Just like that?"
Mark sighed.
"Please don't take it the wrong way, we are very grateful for what you have done today. However... there was something urgent that were were trying to do, it is just that on the way these people had mobbed us. We must get back to it as soon as possible."
The man smirked.
"Sure you do. The same person who had recently lost his job and instead sought asylum in a gang to make up for it?"
He moved closer, each step seemingly weighing more than the last.
"You must have forgotten the value of a life. We just gave you yours, so what do you have to repay us?"
His voice rang clear like a sonorous horn, piercing through the heads of all who listened and struck the mind. Or maybe even the soul. It was best not to direct such a force against him.
There was nothing he could do at the moment. Surrounded by armed soldiers, his savoir had turned into a cage of its own.
With nothing to say, he watched the brunette go first.
"I'll make sure to repay you in earnest, just give us some time to get all the funds together first, ok?"
Anton smiled.
"We don't need money right now."
He started walking.
"For the past year, I have been watching you, Mark. As a bartender, you were a good tool for weeding out other Blessed who had not yet shown themselves. Sadly, they are now all either dead or missing. Only the smarter ones like you remained."
Sweat rolled down Mark's face as a foreboding feeling crawled through his mind.
The soldier continued.
"I was slightly surprised to see that you appeared in a gang. I was more surprised, however, when your leader had come to me himself, proposing such a perfect, horrid plan."
A chuckle escaped from his lips.
"That man should have been a politician or a commander, not the ruler of scrubs like you. Either way, the deal was made. We would wipe out the Spheks while they would allow us to do what we needed.
Mark gulped. The dread had long overtaken him, leaving him nearly shaking in trepidation. Beside him, the brunette put a hand on his shoulder and rubbed it in a comforting fashion.
Her eyes were... neutral.
She brought his head close and kissed him.
"I'll be seeing you."
Then, she stepped back and watched from the side.
Anton, not having finished, widened his smile.
Standing still, Mark suffered under the sun's radiant hue.
It burned his surface, yet he somehow felt frigid inside.
The soldier locked him in the eyes.
"It's time. You were permitted to stay here for too long, and your situation has already started to deteriorate. Now, if you want to run yourself into the ground, do it on the battlefield. It's time... for you to join us.