SHHOOM
Sebastian warps in the lobby, having just finished a mission and emerging victorious on a wager.
"You left the kid alone?" asks Eva, sitting on the couch, both feet up, and a tablet resting on her lap.
"How are you still surprised," Sean comments.
"What, he flew in alone. He can do it again on the way back," he crashes on the couch beside Eva, peeking in on what she's doing on her gadget, eventually just taking it.
"Apartments? You're moving?" he asks.
"RINA's moving, I'm helping her pick one out, give me that!" she forcefully grabs the tablet from Sebastian.
"Why? She moving in with someone?" Sean asks while looking at Sebastian, essentially teasing him.
"I wish so she can finally get rid of this idiot right here, but no," Eva answers.
"She just wants a new place, a better place, I guess."
"Why not just move back in with you?" Sean asks Sebastian again.
"Are you two not back together yet?"
"Hey! Things are complicated, it's not that easy," Sebastian throws out a poorly-constructed excuse.
"JUST APOLOGIZE," Sean and Eva exclaim in unison.
"Oh, my god. Not this again."
"She's just waiting for you, you know that, right?" asks Eva.
"Yeah, man. Just say sorry, give her a kiss, maybe go a couple rounds, and y'all are good," Sean comments.
"Ew," Eva looks at Sean with a disdained look.
"Can we talk about something else please??"
"How's the bet with the kid?" asks Sean.
"Isn't that obvious."
"'Bet', that wasn't a bet, he just hustled the poor kid," says Eva.
"Hey, game is game," Sebastian gets up.
"You guys seen Harley?"
"Already deployed," Sean answers.
"Ah, fuck."
"Why?" asks Eva.
"I was gonna try negotiating a contract again."
"You just live and breathe for money, don't you?" says Eva.
"Not really. But if you're good at something, never do it for free."
Meanwhile, the topic of conversation at the HQ lobby is currently in the middle of a hunt on a primeval forest just straddling the border between Poland and Belarus with Izzy.
Harley sneezes.
"Ah, fuck this place," he says while rubbing his nose.
"I think I'm getting an allergic reaction from all these moss and ferns. I mean, look at this place."
The large, primeval woodland hosts several towering, centuries-old trees with thick trunks and a canopy that forms a shaded ceiling, fallen logs, and decaying trees. It is also home to diverse flora and fauna. With the amount of leaves, ferns, and moss covering everything from fallen trees to the forest floor, the entire forest was practically covered in green. Everywhere you look is the color green.
"I don't know. I think it looks beautiful," Izzy praises the forest's natural beauty.
"Of course you'd think that. You're one of those tribe people, your descendants must have lived on shit like this."
"Uh, I'm from Central Mexico..."
"Ah, same shit. Who cares."
"I uh… I do…"
"It's already dusk. We need to find these fuckers soon," Harley completely shrugs off the previous conversation.
"How far?" he asks Izzy who was holding a radar to detect their targets.
"There's two, 40 meters north and northeast, stationary," Izzy answers.
"Well, I'm not coming to these fuckers"
"We'll pass by them either way, what do you mean."
Glaive in one hand, Harley puts his empty hand on his mouth to form an improvised whistle and whistles loudly, like a master calling back his dog.
The high-pitch, airy, whistle echoed throughout the green forest. The two stood still for a few seconds, waiting for any reaction from the targets in the far distance.
"Think it worked?" asks Izzy.
"Hell if I know, you're the one with the damn radar."
Izzy looks at the radar on his hand.
"Yep, they're coming this way."
"Only the two?"
"Yeah, most of them are over a hundred meters away still."
"Well that's a bummer."
"Were you trying to bait everyone?"
"They're stupid dogs, who cares. We could take a hundred of these and not drop a single sweat."
Over the visible horizon and quickly closing are gray, four-legged creatures, easily recognizable because of their stark contrast with the surrounding scenery.
"There you are," says Harley, still standing in place.
Izzy takes out his club-sword, momentarily putting the small radar in his pocket. He looks at Harley who wasn't moving an inch from where he was standing.
"Are we not going to—?"
"Why do you think I called them over?"
"I mean, we're going to have to go there eventually any—"
Izzy sighs.
"Never mind."
The targets are getting closer and closer each second, now only a few meters away and clearly visible. Running towards them on all fours are two monsters resembling hounds; barely covered in bloodied, supposedly its victims; gray fur; black rotting skin; sharp claws dripping red; its hind legs were large and looked awfully disproportionate from the rest of its body; its face, also covered in blood, was long, fur only covering the top left of its head; its mouth was long and went across its face slightly diagonal from the center, long and sharp yellow disproportional teeth, and only having one eye, a singular eyeball hanging from the middle right side of its face. The hell hounds were leaving a trail of red blood that came from their claws.
The two noticed that despite the monsters' appearance, they were awfully quiet. Unlike the actual creatures that they resemble, the hell hounds weren't making any sort of noise whatsoever. No airy breathing, no barking, no growling or snarling, they were just rushing their prey. Which speaks volumes about what these things truly are. More often than not, despite resembling something else, something familiar like dogs or hounds, the monsters aren't really like the creature that they share a resemblance with.
Harley steps forward, taking one step closer to the rushing hell hounds. The two eldritch dogs jump at him, mouths wide open, sharp claws reaching out.
Standing perfectly still, he swings his glaive sideways in front of him and at the feral hounds in the air, slicing both in half horizontally in one swing. Their lifeless, cut corpse crashing down on the mossy ground.
Harley swings his glaive into the empty air to clean it of monster blood.
"You know we're still going to have to walk over to the rest, right?" says Izzy, pointing out that what Harley planned eventually served no purpose.
"Yeah, but this looked really cool, didn't it?"
The two continue moving walking towards the den of hell hounds over the horizon.
"Can I do it next?" Izzy requests.
"Hell no. It's not gonna be a cool moment anymore if we both do it, you moron," Harley firmly declines.
"How far?" he asks again. "And how many?"
"About 150 meters north. Looks like an entire pack," Izzy answers.
"Weirdass monsters swarming together in packs," Harley comments.
"Fuckers must think they're actual wolves," he adds.
"Are they wolves or hounds?" asks Izzy.
"They're monsters, who fucking cares what they're tryna be."
"You know, I was wondering," says Izzy.
"What"
"About the Redwood mission…"
"What about it"
"Was it really that bad? I mean, if it's ok to ask…"
"You went there, didn't you see what the fucker did?"
"Yeah, but I only got to see the aftermath."
"Isn't that all you need to know? That and the number of people the fucking deer sent to the afterlife. Even, WE nearly got sent to the afterlife."
"Second worst mission I've ever been in, I'll tell you that. Shit was BAD. Hell, I nearly lost a leg. But it still wasn't Red Square. THAT was an actual shitstorm. It's Redwood dialed up to the max."
"I've heard a lot about that, I even saw it on the news. The aftermath was broadcasted worldwide and probably for a week but I didn't know that that was you guys, at the time."
"Probably the worst case of exposure in Eden and Circle history, yeah. But shit was so bad that that wasn't even the Board's concern. Outer Circle, Inner Circle, even Circle personnel who weren't field agents dropped like flies. Everyone was dying left and right."
"What exactly happened?"
"Do I look like a fucking storyteller to you? Go look it up when you get back. We still far?"
"About 60 meters."
Harley stops for a brief moment and looks under his shoes.
"My soles are fucking green, look at this shit," he shows the moss-filled underside of his shoes before proceeding with the walk.
"It's just moss, just spray some hose on it and it's good."
"Whole place is disgusting," Harley is still expressing his discontent with the mission site.
"You need to get more in touch with nature," says Izzy who was the complete opposite and was fascinated by the forest.
"Of course you'd say that, you fucking tribesman."
"Wait," says Izzy.
"What"
"They're moving. About 50 meters away"
"Fuckers already sniffed us out?"
"Looks like it."
"How many?"
"Uhh, a lot. About 15? 20? Probably more?"
"Large pack. Doesn't matter, they're fodder anyway."
"Do we just again?"
"Well yeah, dumbass. I'm not walking towards the idiots that're already coming for us."
Izzy puts the radar away and readies his club-sword again, as if to say "Alright".
"Fuck is taking these things so long," Harley is already getting impatient after a few seconds.
"In their defense, 50 meters is a long way."
"Oh, please. You're telling me these things can sniff us out that far but can't run faster?"
They now start to see the horde behind the fallen, moss-filled logs of trees in the distance, just barely.
"Ah, fuck this," the impatient Harley runs over to greet the horde of feral hell hounds. Izzy smiles and follows suit.
Harley jumps at the hound leading the pack, impaling its head. He takes it out and spins once, glaive pointed outward, ripping open any approaching hound. Izzy joins in, hacking monsters left and right, the blades on his club spinning and vibrating like a chainsaw.
The green forest is being painted by splashes of blue, monster blood. Its silence disturbed by the sound of flesh being ripped apart, echoing throughout the forest. The two men in suits effortlessly butchering the pack of monstrous canine, no concern or worry about their safety whatsoever. They didn't need to. It would take a thousand of these hounds just for them to pose a threat.
The extermination didn't last for very long. It took Harley and Izzy less than 10 minutes to take out a pack of less than 40 hounds.
"Mission control, the targets are neutralized," Izzy reports their success to HQ.
"Do we have to walk all the way back?" asks Harley.
"How else can we go back?" Izzy asks back.
"Ah, fuck."