Seiya collapsed to one knee, his hands trembling over the freshly inflicted wound on his thigh.
His mind raced erratically, trying to make sense of why he had been shot. He considered the possibility that the mission was a ploy to eliminate him, but the location made him dismiss the thought.
They couldn't possibly bring him all the way here just to dispose of him, right?
He raised his gaze, his eyes wavering, silently demanding an explanation from the elite who had fired the shot.
The other elite walked over calmly, brushed Seiya's hands away from his thigh, and spread his own hand over the wound.
A translucent, bubble-like glow enveloped Seiya's injury before fading. Seiya initially thought it was to heal him, but it merely enclosed the wound to prevent blood from trailing about.
Exchanging a nod, the elite with longer hair leapt off the roof while the other fixed Seiya with a cold stare.
"Get up." He commanded, his voice icy but not harsh.
Seiya struggled to his feet, squinting in pain as he rose. When he looked down, he saw the other elite, who had jumped, fighting with the guards below—it was more accurate to say he was dispatching them effortlessly.
Unable to stomach the merciless slaughter, Seiya averted his gaze. Still, he wondered how they could avoid being caught by CCTV, but he dismissed the thought, acknowledging the elite's evident professionalism and preparation.
"Let's go" Ordered the elite beside Seiya.
Seiya questioned how he was expected to walk in such pain, fearing he would only hinder them, but he complied nonetheless.
Trudging behind, Seiya struggled to match the elite's pace which prompt the elite to stop, cock his gun again, and aimed it at Seiya.
Flustered, Seiya waved his hands nervously about, assuring the elite he would keep up. This seemed to suffice, because the elite lowered his weapon and continued forward.
For someone accustomed to enduring severe torture on a daily basis, a bullet wound is bearable.
Though it hurt, Seiya found resolve in the thought of his mother and the children he sought to protect. Their lives fueled his determination to endure.
Seiya pressed on, matching the elite's pace, ignoring the throbbing in his leg.
Finally, they reached a section of the roof. Just as Seiya was wondering how they would get into the house, the elite smashed the roof beneath them with a power kick and the place he smashed crashed and opened up a hole.
Grabbing Seiya by the collar, he plunged them both through the newly formed opening.
As they landed, a barrage of bullets greeted them. The elite tightened his grip on Seiya, maneuvering them behind a pillar for cover. Seiya's heart raced, gripped by raw fear.
"Stay here" the elite ordered, drawing another pistol that was strapped to his waist before rushing into the fray.
The gunfire ceased after a while, and Seiya peered out to see the elite standing amidst a sea of corpses, drenched in blood, his eyes cold and unyielding.
The elite discarded a blood-soaked dagger he had taken from one of the guards and retrieved his pistol from the ground.
"Let's go" He said, and Seiya hurried to his side, momentarily forgetting his injury.
Together, they moved forward, stopping at a door, which the elite kicked open.
Inside was the man Seiya's father had shown him—the very person they were sent there to eliminate.
Seiya swallowed hard, his body trembling as he confronted the reality of his mission.
The man, round with potbelly, was engulfed in raw fear. He held out a rifle, pointing shakily and threatening to shoot.
Before he could act, a bullet pierced his forehead. Seiya could only watch, relieved it wasn't him who had to pull the trigger, though still burdened by the man's death.
The elite dragged Seiya further into the opulent bedroom, his sharp eyes scanning the space and searching methodically—the closet, under the bed, the dressing room and finally the restroom.
Inside the restroom, they approached a tub concealed by a curtain. The elite pulled it aside, revealing a woman and a child—the wife and son of the deceased man. They cowered, their Reyes wide with terror, silently pleading for mercy.
Seiya's heart tightened painfully, each second amplifying the suffocating tension.
Before Seiya could draw another breath, a bullet tore through the woman's head. The child, no older than six, let out a bloodcurdling scream.
Seiya felt the world tilt, his breath hitching as he grew dizzy with horror.
"Go on" the elite urged, his gaze like ice.
Seiya blinked, confusion evident in his trembling voice. "Huh?"
"Complete the mission" the elite reiterated, his tone void of emotion.
Seiya's eyes widened more than they ever had, in terror His hand went numb, dropping the pistol to the floor.
He had just realized it. That he was being asked to kill the young boy in front of him.
His nerves shot up and pulsated erratically, his mind playing the all so familiar question.
Why? Why? As he's drenched in cold sweat.
"Go on" The elite urged again, his eyes blank.
Terror surged through his veins. How could he kill an innocent child? Yet, refusal would mean the death of many more children in the facility. If he didn't do it, the elite would, thereby a mission failed on Seiya's part—and a mission failed equals the lives of many children.
Many more will have to die just because of one child he refuses to kill.
Staring at the innocent boy who has just lost his parents, Seiya's mind was wrecked.
His mind spiraled, each heartbeat louder than the last. Logic dictated one choice, but his conscience rebelled. He needed a way out, a loophole.
Seiya saw this different from all the torture and hellish trainings he's had to endure for the children to live, because if it was that, he'd gladly do it just so they breathe but not this!
In the midst of his turmoil, a chilling thought that froze up every nerve in his body emerged: Should I just kill myself?
Seiya picked up his gun, cocked it, and raised it to his temple, his eyes weary and resigned.