𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 Meanwhile 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣 𓆣
Vincent lay sprawled in the dense forest, his breath shallow and labored as he clutched a blood-soaked cloth against the gaping wound in his side.
His once hulking, animalistic form had dissolved, leaving behind a lean, wiry man in his late twenties.
His short, disheveled hair was matted with sweat, and his sharp features bore the scars of countless fights.
A jagged shard protruded faintly from his pant leg, catching the faintest hint of moonlight filtering through the trees.
"Shit," he muttered, his voice tinged with frustration and pain. "Thinking I could take them all on by myself—real genius move, huh?"
A voice echoed in his mind, sharp and cutting. "Yea, that really goes without saying! What did you think was going to happen? We just figured out how to fuse, let alone use my soul energy to track other shard users!"
Vincent smirked bitterly, wincing as he adjusted the makeshift bandage.
"Thought maybe it'd be some fresh-faced kid. You know, some idealist trying to protect the world or something stupid like that." His fingers pressed harder against his side, and he hissed through clenched teeth. "Would've worked too… if that damn woman hadn't shown up."
"Yeah, 'if.' Real helpful now," the voice snapped back. "You realize they're probably combing these woods for us as we speak? I don't want to die because you can't control your hero complex."
"Relax, Nosey. I'm not planning to die today," Vincent said aloud, his voice steady despite the tremble in his hands. He dragged himself upright, leaning heavily against a tree for support. His fingers brushed the shard embedded in his leg, its cool surface oddly grounding. He traced its edges absentmindedly, his mind wandering.
"So, that Doctor guy," Vincent said after a moment, his tone casual despite the situation.
"You looked like you were in awe during that vision. Who is he, anyway? Where's he from?"
There was a pause before Nosey responded, the voice softer this time. "I… don't know. It's like trying to remember a dream that's just out of reach. But there's something about him, Vincent. Something that makes me feel… loyal. Like we're part of something bigger."
Vincent shook his head again, his fingers brushing away the dried blood on his side as his expression hardened. "Let's not waste time," he muttered, steadying himself against the rough bark of a nearby tree.
He trudged forward through the forest, each step slow and measured as the dried leaves and twigs crunched beneath his boots. The thick canopy above made the world feel tight, suffocating.
Fifteen minutes of silent movement passed before Vincent froze. The faint sound of crunching leaves reached his ears, followed by muffled voices.
Vincent steadied himself against the rough bark of a tree, his single hand clenched tightly around his side where blood still seeped.
The dark-clad operatives moved methodically through the forest, their footsteps muted but distinct in the crunch of dried leaves and twigs. He waited, muscles coiled like a spring.
"No signs of the attacker, but there are clear tracks," one of them muttered through a mask. "Signal's growing stronger. Fan out and check every corner."
Vincent's lips twitched into a grim smirk as his remaining hand slid down to the knife at his belt. His breathing steadied. If they were close enough to sense him, then they were close enough to die.
The first operative came too close, his boots crunching against the underbrush. Vincent pressed himself into the shadow of the tree, his breath shallow and measured.
Blood seeped from his side, but he ignored the sting. His one hand gripped the knife tightly, his fingers trembling slightly from exertion.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath. "No choice… Nosey, just a sliver. Help me out."
The faintest shimmer of energy flickered across his arm as Nosey's voice buzzed in his mind. "Fine, but no more than this. You're hanging by a thread." A thin, jagged layer of dark, chitin-like material formed around his forearm and fingers, enhancing his grip and steadying his aim.
As the operative turned, Vincent lunged forward, his movements quick and brutal. He drove the knife upward into the man's neck, the blade puncturing through with sickening precision. Blood sprayed in an arc, splattering against Vincent's face and chest. The man collapsed silently, his body hitting the ground with a muffled thud.
Vincent barely had time to react before the sharp click of a rifle safety disengaging reached his ears. He twisted, spotting the second operative aiming directly at him.
Without hesitation, Vincent dove for the plasma rifle dropped by his first victim. Nosey's energy extended to encase his hand and the rifle's trigger mechanism in a skeletal grip.
"Let's make it count," Vincent growled. The next shot wasn't standard. As Vincent pulled the trigger, Nosey's energy surged into the weapon, amplifying its plasma charge.
The resulting bolt exploded on contact with the second operative, consuming his torso in a blinding flare. The man's scream was cut short as the plasma disintegrated him into ash and melted metal.
The third operative charged in with a combat knife, his face twisted in fury beneath his mask. Vincent raised the rifle to block the first strike, the blade glancing off the reinforced barrel. Sparks flew as their weapons clashed. The operative shoved forward, slamming his shoulder into Vincent, knocking him back into a tree.
Vincent grunted, his free hand clutching at his wound. His body was screaming for rest, but his mind sharpened under the threat. The operative came at him again, knife aimed for his throat. Vincent ducked low, letting the blade slice through the air above him. With a quick pivot, he swung the rifle in a wide arc, smashing the butt of it into the man's temple.
The operative stumbled but didn't go down, retaliating with a slash that grazed Vincent's side. Pain flared through him, but he used the momentum to drive his knife into the operative's gut. He twisted the blade viciously, the man choking on his last breath before crumpling to the ground.
Breathing heavily, Vincent scanned the scene, his vision blurring at the edges. "They're gonna send more. You need to move, Vincent," Nosey urged.
Vincent took a moment to steady his breathing. "Three down," he muttered to himself. His gaze flicked to their utility belts—loaded with grenades, frag charges, and plasma bolts.