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22/5
Blood dripped from my right hand, the wound pulsing with pain from the gunshot. I pressed myself against the rough wall of the barracks, scanning my surroundings—no one was in sight. I had to move, now.
Keeping low, I slipped into the narrow alley, letting the shadows swallow me. My footsteps echoed softly, each step taking me further from the chaos. I prayed that no one was following.
"This sucks," I muttered, tending to my wounds. Gritting my teeth, I dug out the bullet lodged in my arm, the pain sharp and searing. With unsteady hands, I applied some medicine, trying to steady my breathing.
The TV blared in the corner, showing the latest news: "A terrorist attempting to steal the Black Void—again." The reporter's expression was flat, like this was just another ordinary day. And it was. The news had been cycling the same stories, the same chaos. This world… it was already broken beyond repair since they arrived.
I looked out the window. Across the narrow street stood another building, its shadowed facade blending into a starless, dark sky. Neon lights from nearby shops cast faint, colorful glows, slicing through the gloom. My house was small and unremarkable, but I was grateful for it—grateful for a place to catch my breath.
The Government, that oppressive organization terrorizing the country, had labeled anyone fighting for freedom as a terrorist. How ironic. Tonight had marked my seventh—no, my eighth—attempt to seize the Black Void, a mystical stone rumored to hold an enormous, mysterious power. We, The Soldiers, believed that the Government kept it locked away in the mayor's heavily guarded mansion because it was the key to their control.
We didn't know the full extent of its abilities, but one thing was clear: if we could get our hands on that stone, maybe—just maybe—we could finally turn the tide.
I decided to rest tonight, to let these wounds begin to heal. Every Soldier I've known has died—cut down by the Government after a failed attempt. They bring nothing but disaster: high taxes, unchecked crime, bodies piling up on the streets. What more could they possibly want? The Soldiers lost the war nineteen years ago, wiped out with no hope left. Now, all we can do is hide, from enemies and even from our own allies. I trust no one. Anyone could be concealing their true intentions, waiting to sink their fangs into me. I can't rely on anyone—not even my own teammates.
Magic? There's no magic in this world, only strange powers we barely understand. And does it even matter? I was raised without parents, only my uncle, who taught me what little he knew about this place. He called me Rens—maybe that's my name, maybe it's not. I don't know. What I do know is that I have to find the truth, to get out of this disaster. But no one can escape this country—not without special permission.
As far as I remember, around 20,000 Soldiers have already died because of them. And that's not even counting those who fell in the war years ago. I'm exhausted. Where's the end to all this? Is there even one? Or are we just running endlessly, trapped in some cruel hamster wheel?
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23/5
I woke up with my hair a tangled mess. A bath sounded good, and as I let the warm water ease my sore muscles, I felt a rare bit of relief. Scars covered my body, reminders of battles past, but no one seemed to care about them—yet.
I headed to the pub, hoping a drink might help me clear my head. The streets were buzzing, but then I saw her: a girl in a hood, her gloves bearing a familiar insignia. TSpider. Another Soldier group, if you could call them that. But wasn't it a bit too... coincidental to see her dressed like that in broad daylight? Could be a spy from TG, the Government. She was bleeding; looked like she'd taken a bullet. I almost turned away and kept walking—didn't need another complication.
Then I heard her voice, faint and barely a whisper. "Bear." I paused. Bear? Of all things, why would she say that? Who goes around muttering about animals when they're bleeding on a street corner? She was an odd one, no doubt. Maybe I should test her.
"You okay?" I asked, trying to gauge her reaction.
She tried to hold back tears, her face crumpling as she fought to stay composed. I mean, I'd made girls cry before, sure—but this time, I'd only asked if she was alright! Was that somehow offensive?
"Uh, you okay?" I asked again, a bit uncertain. She nodded slowly, her voice faint. "Help… me… You're a Soldier, right? Bear killer…? Right?"
I glanced around, then pointed at myself, almost amused. Who… me? I looked around once more—no one was nearby. It was risky, but I decided to take her back to my place. If she was in trouble, maybe I could get some information out of her.
Hoisting her onto my back, I ducked into an alley and took a roundabout route home. If anyone was trailing us, I'd shake them off here. Reaching my house, I laid her on my bed and checked her over, searching for hidden weapons. Sure enough, I found a dagger, a small knife, a hand grenade, and what looked like a smoke bomb. Typical.
Once she was clear, I focused on treating her wounds. Six bullets—that was more than I'd ever taken. Even for me, four was my limit. I cleaned and bandaged each wound, checking her breathing every hour to make sure she wasn't slipping away.
As I settled into the wait, I realized my plans for today would have to be put on hold.
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24/5
So far, I'd gathered a few things: first, she was indeed from TSpider. Second, my cheek throbbed from the slap she'd given me for undressing her to check for weapons and treat her wounds. She called me "Bear killer" because of a Morse code stitched into the jacket I'd worn yesterday—something I hadn't even noticed. My uncle had left it to me before he passed, but I had no idea it had hidden code, much less what it meant. Her knowledge of something I didn't only made me more determined to pry information from her.
I'd asked her why she'd worn the TSpider hood in broad daylight. She explained TG had been chasing her since midnight, all the way to when I found her. She thanked me, though I'd only accept that once my cheek stopped stinging.
"Spider, what's your objective? The Black Void? Or something else?" I asked, keeping my voice calm. I knew if I pushed too hard, I'd just make things worse.
She turned to me, shooting a glare that could kill. "Why would I want that stupid stone, pervert? I have a different objective—something better than the Black Void or whatever it is."
Her words hit a nerve. Different and better? I needed to know more, but how? With zero affinity between us, she wasn't about to tell me anything willingly.
She tried to stand, but quickly sat back down on the bed, wincing. I watched from my desk, trying not to smirk. There was a hint of satisfaction in seeing her struggle. I forced myself to look concerned, hoping to gain some favor.
"You should rest. Your wounds aren't—"
"Shut it, perv. Don't tell me what to do," she snapped, cutting me off.
I clenched my fist. Maybe just one punch wouldn't hurt… right?
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25/5
She was still too weak to stand. Six bullet wounds would be hard on anyone. She looked cold and distant, her expression unreadable. I knew well enough that our mottos were the same: trust no one, not even allies.
From time to time, I'd cook her a warm meal, and though she tried to hide it, I could tell she enjoyed it. Sometimes she'd even cry while eating. Was my cooking that good? Or maybe she just hadn't had a warm meal in a long time. Life as a Soldier meant going without, and not everyone was as lucky as I was. Many Soldiers were forced to live in sewers, scavenging scraps just to survive.
The fall of the Soldiers was a story I knew too well. TG hunted them down, starting with TSpider, Wolf, and Fdui—the three strongest teams. My uncle used to tell me about the old days when the Soldiers lived by their own clan codes, making allies and enemies of one another. But when TG arrived, the clans united to fight a common enemy… and still failed.
Even now, that old clan tension lingered between Spider and me, keeping us from any real trust. Not that I was surprised—power struggles and showing strength have always been part of this world. Normal stuff, if you could call any of this "normal."
Today, we barely spoke, only breaking the silence when I brought her food. I left her alone in the house as I headed to work, keeping my true identity hidden from everyone—everyone except her, and it needed to stay that way.
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26/5
She was wearing my uniform, since her clothes were still drying. I'd suggested shorts, but she said she felt comfortable this way—just a uniform, nothing special. Really? I stayed out of my room, keeping busy with my own work, but couldn't shake the thought: What was her real name? I hadn't even asked. Then again, she didn't know mine either, so I supposed we were even… though it did feel ridiculous. I let someone live in my house, and I don't even know her name? I mentally rolled my eyes at myself.
Tonight, I planned to cook egg fried rice, my favorite. Apparently, it was hers too. The thought felt almost… normal. Almost. Picking up some girl and letting her stay with me? It wasn't as if I'd done anything wrong. But the situation was still strange enough to make me uncomfortable. For the sake of my sanity—and my pride—I needed to get her name.
I also figured it was time to buy her some clothes. I couldn't have her wearing my things forever. "Spider, I'm heading out," I called from outside her door. There was a loud thump, like she'd fallen off something.
A moment later, she opened the door, looking flushed and slightly sweaty, probably from some kind of exercise. Maybe I'd startled her. "Where to?" she asked.
"Shopping for your clothes," I replied, serious. No way could she keep wearing my uniform, and it wasn't safe for her to go outside like this.
"Can I—"
"Nope. Stay home," I interrupted. "You can't exactly walk around like this, right?" TG was still likely tracking her, and I couldn't risk exposing either of us.
"Oh… okay," she said, her face falling a bit as she shut the door without another word.
I headed to the nearest clothing shop and picked out seven outfits she could wear in any situation. It cost a lot, but it was worth it; I'd need her cooperation soon. She'd better be grateful.
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27/5
Good news: I'd gotten her the right size clothes. Bad news? She still refused to talk to me. I figured she wasn't ready, and pushing her wouldn't help. If I forced the conversation, it would only make things worse. So, I decided to sit by the door, leaning against the wall, and speak gently, no pretense this time.
"Let's introduce ourselves, shall we?" I said quietly, giving her the space she needed. There was a slight shift on the other side of the door, a sign that maybe I'd gotten her attention.
"My name's Aria. Aria Wackson. You?" she responded, her voice soft but clear.
I paused, processing the name. Wackson… was that a family name? I couldn't remember if I'd ever known how family names worked. "My name is Rens. I don't know about the rest… sorry."
I could hear a subtle movement on the other side of the door. She sounded curious. "What do you mean?"
I leaned closer to the door, trying to keep my voice calm. "I have no one besides my uncle when I was a kid. He raised me like his own son and called me Rens. I never really wondered about my own name. Maybe because I didn't have a reason to."
The words came out shakily, dragging up memories I hadn't thought about in years. Sweet, bittersweet memories.
She was quiet for a moment, then spoke again, this time more gently. "Which clan are you from?"
I frowned. "I don't know. How do you know which clan you're from?"
There was a small pause before she answered, her voice softer now. "I remember that my parents were from TSpider. They raised me there, at the TSpider base, before… before it was destroyed."
I let out a slow breath, realizing the weight of what she was saying. "Oh… you should go home now. Your parents might be worried about your whereabouts." I tried to sound reassuring, but I wasn't sure I believed it myself.
She paused again, then the words came quietly, almost as though she had to force them out. "They passed away. Maybe TG killed them. I don't know."
My stomach twisted. I couldn't imagine the pain. "I'm sorry," I said, the words feeling too small. "I never thought this topic would be so sensitive."
She sighed, but there was a sense of calm in her voice now. "Don't worry. It's been a while. It's fine."
We fell into a peaceful silence for a while, both of us lost in our own thoughts. It felt like the first real conversation we'd had, and somehow, in this strange world we shared, it brought a little more peace—if only for a moment.
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