disclaimer : This is a work of fiction. Any similarities of names, places, and events are purely coincidental and not intentional.
..Except the ones with asterisks* (ekhem)
Hope you like it.
---
Year 203×.
I'm about to die. Fuck. Fuck! He's going to kill me if I don't stop running.
These thoughts run across Arel's head at lightspeed. Heart racing in his throat, he backs away, dodging an attack from the enemy fighters in front of him.
…
"This is Colonel Arel, requesting back up."
He'd been desperate to find anyone, and the rustling of something almost got his hopes up. If not an ally, at least it was human.
ARGH.
Human? Human.. where? Those are machines! He'd remind himself. Skilled fighters that would really beat him in his current situation.
His legs carry him further and further away, seeking shelter in the ruins of the city.
He's 37, he's supposed to be married by now, raising a son or something. He doesn't want that, in all actuality, but anything is better than this hellhole! All he has is the will to live and some.. fists.
As he sprints through the decayed city, he spouts out weak prayers, praying.. just hoping to get away and meet God, not literally. Hopefully.
–
"-Arel."
He's back in safety. Chest huffing up and down as he slips himself into the darkness of shelter. Nothing warm about it, he guarantees, but warmth become subjective when faced with thousands of 'monsters' who makes the country the fucking Arctic.
"-rel. Farrel."
He was aware enough to hear someone call him, just not in the state to respond. Back hunched forward, he supports his body on the wall, trying to get a clear view of the speaker.
"Colonel, can you hear me?"
Masculine. That's what this guy infront of him was. His red eyes aim upwards, taking a glimpse of the man in front of him.
Red. Red blazing hair fills his sight, and with just a breath taken in, he knows who this is.
Choi Yusol. The Army General that Arel would just blindly follow. The two were separated from a sudden bombing in their city, with the General running to hold back the barrage of 'monsters' running their way, while the Colonel was to gather personnels and evacuate remaining citizens.
Yusol was inarguably the best fighter of the world. He'd defended and led the country to countless victories, all alone, way before Arel had even joined the company.
Yes, it was more like a military than a company, but it was definitely not supported by the government.
Anyways - The redhead was younger by 7 years, yet his almost yellow eyes gleamed with triple the experience. Arel's life would pale in comparison to Yusol, yet the former prides himself in being recognised as Yusol's equal.
Sure, Arel wasn't exactly.. all that, but he goes on par with the General despite his late blooming in his training. Arel was Yusol's equal, because no one else was available to surpass him.
"Gen..eral?"
Arel rushes to salute, greeting his General with an attempt to respect that superior of his. But Yusol knows. He aptly places a hand on the older's shoulder, sitting the man down on the floor as he squats. Yusol's grip was firm, befitting of his image as a General, yet there was something rough to it.
"Colonel. Any reports?"
Sometimes Arel just wished he was just the average citizen. He could just lay low and pray tell, Yusol might save his ass.
No. He can't though. He's the colonel of an army, one of the leaders of this generation in fighting. Being a personally handpicked member by Yusol was the cherry on top of his placardly boring, unemployed life, and he just wants to serve the man who'd made his life slightly more interesting.
Wheezing, Arel coughs up some air that was stuck in his throat.
"No one survived in the city, sir."
"..."
The silence was nasty. It was just the shallow reminder that Yusol and Arel were probably the only people left in the vicinity. The only fighters to keep this country as is. But there was also a slight smile on the General's face, unnoticable by the colonel.
Their country is fucked for sure.
Hours seemed to pass, and Yusol had sat down besides Arel. The two were the only ones left able to fight, and fight as they might.
"Colonel. What do you perceive of our situation?"
Yusol asks, humming to the whirring of helicopters. Not allies, of course. Being left behind is a concept no foreign to the General, yet the concept of them just being discarded is bound to make the leader angered. Still, Yusol had an amazing capability of keeping his thoughts to himself, only expressing what is expected of such a figure like him. Arel could only wish he's as wise.
"Shitty. General, we're fucked."
Considering their nation had fallen apart, maybe using those terms were just consolation to themselves. It's not about respect, but the idea of a past that had happened. Arel sighs, looking over to the redhead in slight hope, expecting some wise words from the general. May not prove anything, but consolation is always key for a broken nation.
"You're correct, Colonel."
"..."
"Our best discourse would be to surrender. I don't want that, but if you wish to.. I will not hold you back. I'm not your boss anymore."
"...Fuck.. Don't make this hard.."
Arel wants to just close his eyes and pray this was a nightmare. His.. general? His.. well, former boss was just saying words that feels like he's about to die. Sacrifice? For what? A better future? Or your pride? Arel's heartbeat quickens, silently begging Yusol not to go for what he thinks the General would do.
Yusol stands up, taking a sniping gun, oh that dusty old Dragunov, and one hand gun from the sides of the shelter. Reloading his weapons of choice, it was almost like Yusol was in pure bliss, like the concept of dying for his country was a goal, not something to avoid.
Nothing to respect a man but a suicide mission.
—
"..Colonel. Take this."
Arel could feel his hair rise up from the sudden calling out to his name. He complies, staring at the lone fighter in front of him, his general. Intending to surrender himself once Yusol completes his suicide mission, Arel fully complies to the absolutely dead man.
"General."
A.. pill. Unlabeled pills, for Arel to consume, maybe.
Yusol bids goodbye to the lone survivor, and fights against all those that doom their nation. Helicopters and marksmen alike, taken down single handedly with just half a bullet. Arel had always noticed his 'general' had twice as many bullets as the other soldiers. Because he splits his bullets in half, those trained fingers split bullets with ease, evenly even on both sides.
Still. A man was nothing to the onslaught of machines and weaponry that a man would not have access to. Yusol may shoot down anything in his way, anything that bothers him, but bullets are a scarce concept. Once they run out, Yusol is dead.
Yusol was already dead the moment he stepped out on the field anyway. Everyone there would know Yusol had expected to die.
Yet Arel still jumps forward, shielding the General from the gunshots. His general doesn't need it at all, yet Arel just wanted to play hero for a bit. It's not fun to fight on the side that's trampled on your life, and Arel knows that. He'd rather fight for the side that was true to its own origin.
Coughing up blood, the colonel supports himself on Yusol's stronger body. The latter's eyes widen, but a small smile escapes his lips, as if death wasn't inching closer and closer.
"Idiot, but I'm glad you came."
Arel groans, feeling himself being supported by Yusol, the man muttering vague words as more soldiers prepare to shoot at them.
Well. Yusol's got a handgun. And Arel's got some fist. They'll manage. The most skilled marksman and best 2nd in command of the century were a force to be reckoned, and that they were.
The fight might've lasted hours to come, yet the two still go strong. Adrenaline rushing in their minds to no end, fighting every single thing that defies their country's existence, except they were far more shallow than that.
They just didn't like their enemies. Or at least Arel did. Yusol probably wasn't that petty.
What took them out wasn't the people, it was the exhaustion. Dead bodies, machines and waste lay around the two as they sit down. With no energy left to spare, they smile. Arel and Yusol would definitely die from exhaustion, but at least it was in freedom, not in captivity.
"Soldier. Would you believe this all happened because of a high school nearby 12 years ago?"
Small talk before death? Sweet.
"No, General."
"Yeah, me neither."
Arel just purses his lips, never knowing what to expect from the redhead. His thoughts move along, and it reaches the pill that Yusol gave to him. Taking it out with his battered right hand, Arel finally takes a closer look, and his general notices.
"Curious?"
"..."
The colonel nods slightly, his neck sore from the fighting that he couldn't move a lot of his body. Yusol seems fine. He's probably used to it.
"It's a project pill. Something about time travel. I was supposed to drink it, but I'm not interested in time travel."
"Oh."
"Colonel. Would it be selfish to ask you.."
Even without Yusol completing his sentence, Arel already had a hunch on what the younger would say. Are they still even on the basis of superiority? No. Would Arel still comply? Yes. Because Yusol had given everything for the country, and the colonel hadn't.
"No pressure. Just.. don't let this world get so bad for us."
Arel nods along, understanding Yusol's intention for it. He slightly hoped for guidance, not expectations he can't fulfill. The task from the army general was almost impossible to do, yet Arel feels inspired. He gulps, and places the unlabeled pill in his mouth.
"One more thing- Colonel. Good luck. Change what I can't change."
Yusol calls out, looking away from the man on the mission. Opposed to a mission, this was a favour the redhead was asking for.
"No guarantees, but I'll try, General."
This may be the last time Arel could meet Yusol, so he might as well call the younger with the way he always did. Maybe Arel should be proud to be able to do such a mighty man a favor, but the implications of the task will probably drive Arel crazy, so there's a lot of mixed feelings there.
Despite half of Arel's body trying to stop himself, he swallows the hard-to-bite pill, because it wasn't made to be bitten. Albeit humor had been a far too late coping method for the Colonel.