Arc 3 - Chapter 35: Agents of FUC

(Reverence 4, 59 / 12:02PM)

Up north where dirt replaced sand, was a town large enough to be a small city. Full of business, the sunny afternoon housed automobiles, pedestrians, and donkey-carriages in a human’s spectacle.

And it was hot.

The sun’s rays bringing down its judgement, anyone who sulked in the sun was drenched in sweat. And anyone who worked, or had worked under this cruel light, were drained from even walking. Inside of an adobe cladded in white, a group of men walked in…

As a slam of cold air washed their faces.

Being the ringleader, Stan crashed on the floor, and laid on his back. Spreading out his arms and legs, he tried to maintain his breathing, but his vocals were clogged in parchedness. With Gary doing the same thing, the two felt the wood soothe them.

Diego leaned on the side of the wall, his fingers and palms sticking to the wood like glue. As for Fred, he crashed onto the couch, laying down while he catched his breath.

“Remind me … pants … to never do chores at this time…” Said Gary.

“You and me both… pants …” Said Stan.

A woman appeared in front of him.

Hovering over him like a shadow, she had her hands on her hips. Her eyes as cold as Kepputhan glaciers, she had a deep frown, one that could freeze a fly.

“This is unsightly. Get up.”

“Yes ma’am…”

Getting up with wobbling arms and legs, he had some strength in his shoulders. Standing straight, his face was still ridden with sweat, while his neck sizzled red.

Unwilling to rub the back of his neck, he remembered why he did such chores. A day and a half ago, or the night before yesterday, he wondered why the Dark Angels hadn't returned. Were they alive? Were they captured? These questions gnawed at his soul.

“We did everything you asked us to do. Cleaning the gutters, fixing up the garden, and even feeding the chickens. Please tell us we’re done…”

“For now, you four should rest. I don’t wish to force you all into heatstroke.”

‘I think I’m going through one right now…’ thought Gary.

Stan let his eyes trail down to the wooden floor. Having his hands settled on his sides, it wasn’t long before he looked up at Iris. Facing her with nervous eyes, no emotion dwindled in her irises, making her lacking in empathy.

“And about that deal. We did what we asked, so what happened?”

“I’ll speak, but help me with one more favor.”

“And what would that be?”

“Command your friends to get up from the floor.”

Stan immediately walked where Gary laid. Kicking him softly, he struck the left side of his stomach, which exclaimed a gust of air to come out. Yelping not out of pain, but out of pure appallment, he quickly got up.

“What was that for!?”

“She told me to get you up. I did what I was asked.”

Iris walked where Diego sat, and he looked up at her with a hung mouth. He kept his knuckles groveling on the ground, while she folded her arms beneath her chest.

“Get up. Now.”

“... make me.”

‘‘Oh come on man…’’ thought Gary and Stan.

Without a roll to her eyes, she bent down, and grabbed both of his shoulders. Rising him from the ground, his eyes sparkled, even though his shoes dragged on the floor. Letting a warm smile rinse his cheeks, she began to pull him close…

‘I’m … am I—’

He was thrown.

Like some football, she threw him with no prep time. The direction being on the white couch, a shadow emerged from above Fred.

“Hu—”

Air escaped from his mouth, as he gasped loudly for the world to hear. On top of him, Diego had instinctively leaned his head forward, while Fred couldn’t move even if he wanted to. Both of them clenching their eyes shut, the pain that bristled their chests…

They felt their cheeks grow warm. The two of them opening their eyes—their faces were inches from one another.

“Get off me!”

Pushing him off, Fred’s cheeks burned crimson. Clenching down on all of his teeth, he heard Diego plop on wood, while he stared angrily at him. A low groan emerging from his throat, Diego rubbed his chin, as it swelled purple.

“Ah! That’s going to leave a bruise.”

All the while Gary and Stan saw them with deadpan eyes.

Rolling his eyes, Stan directed his attention onto Iris. Scratching the back of his head, he ruffled off sweat and dandruff that were glued to his hair. Along with some chicken seed.

“Alright. I did you that small favor. Can you—”

“May.”

“May you please tell us what happened during that raid?”

“It was a real fun house, that’s for sure.”

They heard another voice, one that they were somewhat familiar with. Turning toward the border between kitchen and living room, they noticed a bunny-human leaning his shoulder against the wall. Wearing a thick brown jacket, and wearing boots, he held a mug in his right hand.

“They all escaped. Me and the lady heard about it in the reports. But yeah, it was a shitstorm for both parties involved.”

“Were there any injuries for our side?”

“Eh, not really. I mean, there was that tall lanky guy that got shot though.”

“Tall and lanky… was he dark? And does he wear a ponytail?”

“I think he does, why?”

Stan moved his right hand toward his neck, and kept it there in place. Even when it felt like razor blades sliced on his skin, he continued to think.

If Miles was injured, then there might be nothing to worry about. At the most, Hope mostly likely healed his wounds, and he was probably somewhere laying low. If that were the case, wouldn’t he find a way back toward the adobe?

‘Just what are you doing Luke… What's the endgame we’re touching down on?’

As Stan rubbed his neck, a bit of his eyes were strained. Being lost in thought, it left Gary to push his hands in his pockets, while adjusting his back.

“And during the raid, did you guys at least bring something back? Sean said that he was trying to get something.”

“I think it was paper.”

“They robbed a ranch for a single sheet of paper?”

“Yep. If I were to guess, they’re probably on some wild treasure hunt.”

Gary walked off with his hands pulled from his pockets. Raising them to the back of his head, he slowly walked, his body slightly shivering at the reward they were given. A paper … a single sheet of paper…

Stan had his eyes on the floor, his whole attention being on the wood. Darkening his lower eyelids, he dug his nails into his neck.

‘Come on Luke… you gotta learn how to put your foot down… it’s going to—’

—They heard a knock.—

Turning their heads toward the front door, the five men followed by Iris stared at it with narrowed eyes. No response being drawn from the other side, their body weights doubled upon their knees. After what felt like an eternity, Fred pushed himself off the couch, and then walked toward the door.

Trailing the wooden floor with his blue sneakers, he had both hands to his sides. His palms glittering in sweat, he heard nothing from outside that door, making it clear they were masking themselves. Holding his breath, he kept all the air in his lungs until he reached the door.

Gripping the handle, his own sweat tainted the golden metal. Taking in a big gulp of saliva, and having it marinate his throat, he nodded to himself. A nod of reassurance. At long last, he opened it.

“Oh…”

It was a face all too familiar. Having a side bang covering his left eye, his hair was cladded blonde, and he wore a tuxedo. Wearing all black, he also wore a fedora… and his eyes were ghostly blue.

He was—”

“Long time no see Fred.”

—“A-Agent Briggs…”—

He stood right in front of Fred, his hands in his tuxedo’s pockets. Taking a step back from the door, his face was tainted deathly pale. Everyone else gathered in the living room, and they saw the agent.

But only one woman walked toward him. Being right behind Fred, Iris poked her head out, her eyes and frown grisled in ice.

“I’m afraid we don’t accept girl scout cookies. Who are you?”

“Agent of the FUC, Federal United Corps. And no, we’re not here to give out cookies. We have a warrant for a search and arrest.”

Without any heed, he took out a metallic object from his right hip. Cladded in gold, the second he pulled it out made everyone take out their weapons. Revolvers, pistols, assault rifles, they all armed themselves but they didn’t point barrels.

Exhaling a large amount of dry air, most of it parched his lips. Lowering his head, he tapped his right foot.

“I don’t want to kill any of you, but if you resort to violence, we’ll double it. Triple it even.”

“Explain your warrant.”

“Give us Luke Fenix.”

Iris placed her hand on Fred’s shoulder, and she felt his body quiver. In her other hand, she carried a wooden rolling pin, and she saw the way Briggs hid his face. Raising her right eyebrow up, she lightened her footing.

“I don’t know who this Luke Fenix is. But whoever he is—”

“I see the line of sweat riveting from your temple.”

Briggs tilted his head upward. His body calm, and his posture all straightened out, he didn’t narrow or glare at her. No. His eyes were all milky, all laced with a stench of… Iris didn’t know.

Which made her tighten the grip on her rolling pin.

“We know you’re allied with the Dark Angels. We heard it from one of your men, that dog-human. I’m afraid he’s missing, or rather…”

Briggs took note of the rolling pin, as her fingers squealed the wood with so much force. Having his eyes directly on her, he didn’t harbor any frustration, nor anger. In fact, he looked at her with calm eyes.

“His sins had caught up to him.”

Everyone aimed their weapons. Stan, Gary, Diego, and Jumbo; these four grappled the floor with their own two feet.

Exhaling air from his mouth, Briggs had no choice but to move his finger toward the trigger. But he didn’t aim his barrel.

“Stay down, or else we’ll have no choice but to use lethal force.”

“Then so be it.”

Pushing Fred back, Iris had herself facing the wintry agent. With her other hand, she grabbled the handle and adjusted her posture. Her knees holding everything, from her stomach up to her shoulders, she then glanced in back of her.

“I’ll handle this pig. You all should run.”

“Y-Yes ma’am…”

Nodding at her words, Fred ran back into the adobe, and toward the others. Having two yo-yos in his hands, he and the others charged toward the back door, the exit that led toward the garden.

Glaring at him with strained eyes, Briggs didn’t have any technique to him. Seeing that she was going to fight him with a combat weapon, he pushed his revolver back into his holster.

“You’ve made a grave mistake. You should have given us Fenix.”

Sliding her right foot back, she pressed the cement with only her toes. Thrusting back her right arm, the blade glittered under the afternoon sun, while the heat burdened their bodies.

“I am a woman of many things, but I’ve never once been unloyal.”

Meanwhile…

As the five of them ran toward the door, their eyes somewhat blurred the reality befalling them. The government finally knowing where they are, and what they want, Stan clenched down on all of his teeth.

‘Damn it! It can’t get any worse than—’

The door fell with force.

Broken from its hinges, the sudden kick made them slide through the wooden paneling. Their faces trickling with sweat, the sun that flashed its rays gave way to a shadow.

She was a woman, her clothing being the same as the wintry agent. Black tuxedo, black slacks, church shoes, even her fedora was copy and paste. Wearing oval-shaped glasses, her hair was medium-short, and she had a mole on her right jaw. Last but not least, she wore knuckle dusters on both of her hands.

“You lot ain’t leaving.”

She took three steps forward, and eyed the five men who paled in sweat. Even though she was short and petite, she radiated an energy that only evil chihuahuas could harbor. Feeling their toes grow static—

Fred took two steps forward, while having his yo-yos hung on his fingers.

“You guys go, I’ll handle her.”

“Like hell. That woman is a sadist. She’ll pummel you like—”

“You said sadist? Well what do you know?”

And beside Fred, Diego stood right next to his shoulder. Carrying a revolver in his right hand, he looked at Ada with sparkling eyes. Stan and Gary grew wry, and Ada felt a weird vibe drawing from him.

“Alright Fred, let’s get this show on the run.”

“Just try not to get hit on purpose. She’ll break your bones with those knuckle dusters.”

“Yeah yeah, no worries.”

As they buckled under her stare, Jumbo, Stan, and Gary ran toward the kitchen. Clutching their rifles tightly, while Gary only held a pistol, it wasn’t long before they reached the sink.

Up above, was a window big enough for one person to enter.

“We could go through the windows.”

“Of the kitchen? Are you sure we won’t get cut?”

“Unless you're stupid, you won’t get cut. Promise.”

Stan looked at the window once more, with the sun glazing the glass in its absurd heat. Feeling his fingers and palm stain his gun with sweat, he glanced at Gary, and then at the window.

If they take that chance, the least glass will do is cut against their skin. Not only that, but there was no ladder on the other side.

But they had good odds.

“I mean, if it makes—”

—The wall exploded.—

Wood and brick flinging toward them, they quickly shut their eyes and shielded their faces. Clutching their guns tightly, they tumbled back, the dust already swelling around their faces. Clumps of rock hitting dead on their chests, and on their backs, groans wallowed the kitchen…

While Stan coughed from an unmarinated throat.

“Cough cough … what the…”

His vision all blurred, all dotted in spots of white, he shook his head violently. As if to get the thing out of his head, or whatever it was, he growled through trembling vocals. Turning his body to the right, he laid on his stomach, and tried to squint through…

In that shadow, was a woman with an hourglass figure. Similar to Luna.

Walking through the dust, it didn’t take long before her steps softened. Stopping dead center in the kitchen, she lowered her eyes on the three men who coughed.

“Awww, are you three alright?”

Her voice filled with a sort of lust that bordered dominance, all of his face grew white.

It was a woman, and she wore the exact same attire as everyone else. Having her hands on her hips, she looked down at the three men, while basking at the way they groveled on the ground. Their eyes looking up at her, she allowed a sultry smile to gleam her face.

“Not to worry. There’s still time to surrender.”

“We’ll … cough cough … not give up.”

“Then what is your endgame here then?”

Walking right next to her, was another agent wearing the same attire. This time, he had a rifle within his hands, a sniper rifle that looked more like an assault rifle. Looking down on Stan, his eyes softened, and his grip on the metal slightly shook.

“You guys broke the law and you know it. Escaping from that courthouse was the worst thing you guys could’ve done.”

“What choice did we have!? We would’ve gotten sent to The Dome either way!”

“I’m sorry Stan…”

Unable to get up from the ground, all they could do at that moment was jitter.

Aiming the barrel of his sniper at Stan specifically, he had his finger not on the trigger, but on the side. His cheeks straining a little bit, he somewhat softened his glare, but it was clear that the men beneath him …

Were criminals.

“But between criminals and the law, I have to put the law first.”

A sudden boom came crashing onto them.

It was a wave for him, but Alexandra stood with a cocky grin. Replacing her smirk with a gasp, saliva spazzed from her lips, before she began rolling through the ground. Hitting her shoulders repeatedly, it wasn’t long before she crashed into a wooden wall.

Having her back against it, she growled, and laid eyes on the perpetrator.

“Oh… it’s you…”

Eren buckled his knees, as he took note of the monolid woman’s stance. Pulling back her foot, she had her pan right on Eren’s rifle, while her eyes fully glared at the Spartan woman.

Seeing that she was getting up, the monolid woman straightened out her back. Her glasses make her condescending… she smiled.

“Sorry I arrived late. I was tending to a tombstone that had your name on it.”