Arc 1 P8

"I'm not authorized to answer that, Two. Sorry."

"Don't be. You're just doing your job, as we are."

Knowing what to do, Leroy dashed straight ahead. A slight disturbance in the perimeter of the corrupted and he knew what's about to happen.

The corrupted also sensed the distortion and waved his sword, shattering the field. However, Leroy used that opening to slip past.

"…"

In one swift motion, Wahr cut deep into its side, bringing it down on a knee. That's not all. A heavy thud resounded. The huge blade fell to the floor with an arm oozing black blood.

"We did it," Ambrosia smiled weakly and closed her eyes. Shiska immediately checked for her pulse. Despite weak, it's enough for her to pull through. Provided she got proper care.

"Is it over..?" The operator asked.

"Let's hope so."

Shiska prepared to bring Ambrosia back to the extraction point by rappelling down. Only Leroy proceeded up to check whatever they're actually tasked to get. It's made clear that this wasn't the usual extermination gig. Based on the operator's unusual behavior, testing out the staff relic was only secondary.

"Leroy," Shiska threw him a small vial. Viscous crimson fluid danced inside. "Just in case."

With the two exchanging meaningful glances, they both turned their backs and did their job.

"Shiska-nya," Ambrosia spoke once they're alone.

Shiska was busy fixing the gear on themselves. "Conserve your energy. Help is coming."

"I wanna… cough cough… talk… about… I had this dream. There's so many pretty lights."

Ambrosia told her a bunch of nonsense, mostly from memories she had, both exaggerated and real. She must be delirious from the sudden stress she experienced using the damned staff.

Humans, be it tainted or the 'normal' ones, all emit a certain frequency. These vibrations were what the relics read. Just as how every person is unique, so were these vibrations. Every pattern was a fingerprint unique to that person. Certain relics like Wahr needed a specific 'frequency' pattern to both activate and use. Others, like the buster sword that guard corrupted earlier, was more universal.

Speaking of that relic though, Shiska wondered how it was activated. Did the corrupted had access to someone like the military general, able to both activate and use a wide variety of relics? Or was that mass-produced stuff simple that foolproof? Despite seeing relics of different shapes, sizes, and uses, Shiska felt like she knew nothing about it.

The descent went well. The operator yap—no—Shiska came to respect her a little now. Just as Leroy said, she's also just following her orders. There's nothing she could do. Heck, her grades might even be at stake for all Shiska cared, but for some reason, whenever she communicated to them, she felt a sense of genuine concern. Ambrosia also had the same operator situation, and based on what she heard from the girl, that guy was more inept and treated her like some sort of toy doll he could control.

"Shiska-nya… it's cold…"

Shiska grabbed her hands. They're extremely cold. She tried massaging them as they waited for help.

"There's this place… the city," she reminisced again once she felt Shiska's warmth. "They took me in all those pretty places. Good food… good bed… it's like a dream. They said… cough cough…"

Another coughing fit. The reddish-black blood she spat flew everywhere. Her tattered frill dress was dyed black. The ground. Her lips. Some hit Shiska's eye. It stung. However, she tried her hardest not to take her eyes off the girl.

"I wanna sing there, you know…" Ambrosia still continued despite barely saying the words out. "I want to be like those idols… wearing pretty clothes… going to places… giving hope… I want to spread that message. Fighting isn't all there is in the world…"

"You've done great so far. That's why you have to rest, okay?" The quivering in her voice as he tried to hold back the tears was evident. "Please sing more songs for us… please…"

The corners of Ambrosia's lips lifted a little. "I don't think—"

"DON'T THINK! I mean…"

"Ahh… I'm younger than nya, you know? I'm the one… cough… who should act c…ute…"

"—!"

Shiska frantically searched for her pulse. Her hands were still cold. "No… no…" She tried warming her up some more. Massaging, rubbing her hands together, Shiska desperately tried anything she could think of. "Please… God… No…"

Just then, the sound of footsteps reached her ears.

"Medic team," one said. "We'll take it from here."

They performed preliminary aid. Unlike the ancient times where a bunch of people were needed, this 'team' was just a pair of medics and a carrier robot in charge of all the apparatuses and medicines. Once done, they finally loaded the girl up in a stretcher. They even took the staff as per 'ordered'. The relic, a tool of destruction earlier, now resembled a piece of junk once deactivated.

"Will she pull through?" Shiska asked.

"Well, she won't if you continue pestering us. Out of the way!"

That necessary hostility shook some of the panic out of her system. Of course, Ambrosia would survive. Chernobyl only had the best and the finest. They wouldn't settle until all their personnel were up to standard. Also, with technology nowadays, her fears were nothing but unfounded reactions from the bygone era.

The sound of an engine revving caught her attention though. She immediately shot a glance at the medics already quite a ways. Surely the robot wasn't made to make a loud noise, so what—

It all happened in an instant.

A bike—something that looked like a small hovercraft but with wheels—shot past the medics. Then, brandishing a black sword, the rider wearing a goofy-looking helmet design, swung the blade down.

It took Shiska a few moments to understand what happened. Her body however, was there by the time the bike stopped.

Her eyes still saw a couple of seconds late. For her, she's still running, completely focused at the stream of red-orange tracing the arc the rider drew with the blade. Once it connected…

FWISH! The severed torsos of the pair of medics lit up consumed by high-degree flames. The stretcher fell flatly.

"Ambrosia!" Shiska rushed to the girl, hoping to keep her off the burning bodies.

A black sword flew and, before she could touch the edge of the stretcher, pierced the girl. Square to the chest.

Perhaps the last mercy she was offered was that she's unconscious.

For she wouldn't want to see what would happen next.