Liberation

“H-Hold the line!”

“C-Commander! The door!”

The man in question stood in the center of the formation, a brightly colored sash wrapped around his right arm signifying his rank. Armed with shields that cover over half the body and a shortsword, three lines of men formed a semicircle around the only entrance of the room, the other three barricaded with the mess hall’s tables and chairs. They held their breath, not making a single noise, allowing the faint footsteps to echo into the room. Each foot was heavy, with a slight squish from the gore it walked over.

Thud…

As far as they knew, they were the last of the personnel inside the compound, the last line of defense for the incredibly sensitive equipment on the next floor after them. Save for the Head scientist and her two bodyguards, even the platoon redirected to rendezvous behind the intruder were eliminated– all buried underneath the trapped hallways left behind by the intruder as he went along.

Thud…

“I have no quarrel with you, surrender and I will spare you.” A voice echoed softly in an authoritative manner.

“The bastard is crazy enough to trap himself in with us– can we really kill someone like that?!” The commander gulped down on his dry throat, promptly banishing the thought from his mind. “He should be exhausted by now! Two battalions guard this base! And we’re the only platoon left! He’s exhausted by now!”

He bellowed the command, easing his men’s worries, or at least lessening them with hope, hope the commander prays aren’t false. “Protect the spell-casters!” He repeated again to the men at the rear, pointing at the women in lab coats who began to work on a single spell. In the span of six hours, midnight till dawn– they were the only ones left. They had to win. Defeat was not an option.

Whoosh!

The blazing ball of flame around them started to feel warm, cooling the back of their necks. The commander steadied his gaze at the door, gripping his weapon tightly. Frost slowly started to spread through the miniscule gaps, growing bigger to deform the solid steel door. “It’s now or never!--”

Crkk…Crack!

The door began to deform under the growing material’s force, and eventually the bolts that sealed it shut exploded into ricochete. However it was held together by the ice, only imploding into a crumpled ball of iron when the intruder deemed fit.

BANG!

An explosive blast originated from the door, sending the metal into the crowd, fortunately bouncing off the wall of shields, and a dense fog of chilled air slowly blew in– the stench of blood was recognizable from the red snowflakes that crept along with it.

The commander raised his hand to signal the mages to hold the spell, waiting patiently for what was coming, and from inside the smoke, four cylinders the size of beer mugs were thrown. They looked like metal, reflected light like metal, but as they fell to the ground, they rang like glass.

At first glance, they rolled towards the men slowly, randomly, but not in the commander’s eyes. “Deep breathes!---”

Clang!

On both ends of the cylinders, two holes blew open from the pressure inside, letting out thick mists of darkness. They spread quickly from the cylinders with the escaping gasses causing them to spin violently.

The cloud of darkness was quickly blown over the troops with its reach, and even the large fireball fueled by three of the facility's finest mages was snuffed out like candle flame. It was no different from a heavy blanket draped over their eyes. Quickly from the blindness, a man desperately screamed as he was cut down, his last words carried by a blood curdling scream.

“He’s Here! In the Smoke–”

The commander looked around him, only the sounds of mayhem to accompany his lonesome. His eyes ceased to function, yet he could still see himself. He could hear his subordinates encircling around to protect him, but he could not see them, and only feel their presence.

Clang! Shing! Bam!

The sounds of battle raged in his eardrums, driving up his anxiety. But as he was about to lose his mind, light emerged from his blindness, his whole field of view returning quickly to him. “Ah!--”

Like his men, they shared the same response, and immediately turned around to the intruder in the center of the deceased spellcasters– the corpses of their fallen all around his boots. Unlike the monster they had imagined in their minds, only a boy no older than twenty gazed back at them.

He wore the same clothes as they did, no doubt sourced from a kill, his calloused hand holding a large circular bottle filled with a dark violet concoction against his lips. All around his person were the signs of struggle, battle, and death. Even the grimoire in his hand exuded ominous energy.

Handprints stained his face, desperate attempts of a counter attack, and streaks of blood that dripped down from his hairline like dried rain. He was handsome, with a diagonal eyebrow scar pointing outward on his left eye, strong shoulders placed securely on his large stature– but he was no different from a monster to them. A wolf in sheep’s clothing.

“I have no quarrel with you, leave, and I will spare you.”

The commander felt the presence of his soldiers without taking his eyes off the assassin, giving him no answer. They outnumbered him thirteen to one, but what good was their numeric advantage? Six hours ago two thousand guards roamed the facility in cycles– yet they were reduced to twelve. Is this island, a facility for something they don’t even know, worth dying for? No, no it wasn’t.

“Will you really?--” The commander asked without thinking, his hand shutting his mouth quickly. “What am I even thinking… We pledged our lives for this.”

“An honorable commander will go down on his post.” The man shook his head at Akiro, “But please… spare my men at least, as prisoners of war.”

Akiro blinked, thinking for a second. He was baffled by the man’s selflessness and blind loyalty. “Is it because of duty?” he asks, “Do you even know the purpose of this facility? What they did do to me and countless others?”

“W-What is he talking about, Sir?”

The commander’s shoulders flinched, like a worm buried in his mind resurfacing. His men do not understand a thing. Over the years he had served in his post, rumors and whispers from the people that came before him reached his ears. This facility needed to be purged, but this was the path he had chosen. It may have been blind loyalty and duty, but even then he needed to pay the price, to hold accountability for his foolishness.

“I’ve heard whispers, and have seen…evidence of such a claim.” The man answered truthfully, “But I turned a blind eye.”

“And yet, you still want to face me?” Akiro followed his every move, not lifting his sharp gaze. “Even if I gave you the chance to live? Despite your sins?”

“I… I must take responsibility for my selfishness, whatever that’s worth to…t-to you and the others that came before you.” The man dropped his weapons, lowering his head. His body came down quickly, his forehead pressed down on the floor. “For my predecessors, myself, and my comrades– I beg your forgiveness!”

Clang!

His sword rang against the tiled ground with a surprising sound, his men exchanging looks. They turned back to the assassin who reached into his grimoire, his hand disappearing into the pages. There was a moment of silence between the groups until some of the men paled at Akiro. “S-Sir…”

“Raise your head, o’ honorable knight.” Akiro commanded. The man raised his head with dignified resolve, his face steeled. “And say your name with pride, that I may remember it till the day I die.”

The commander rose up from the ground, still kneeling at the face of his demise. He looked at the handgun in Akiro’s hands, and then to his face, there he saw the assassin smile genuinely. “Edmund, Sir. I do not have a last name.”

“Then on this day, and for the years to come, I will remember you as Edmund Earhart– A man of Honor.” Akiro closed his eyes, “There are people out there like him after all…”

“Thank you, Edmund. I will never forget you.”

The guard looked closely at the boy, his eyes finding a faint shine of a teardrop. This was no monster, but a human that had been wronged, and had forgiven him from the depths of his heart. “Yes sir!”

Bang!

The large slide of the handgun kicked back, lifting the gun upwards and pointed at the air. The frosting bullet flew into Edmund’s chest, carefully freezing his heart and preserving the body from the inside out.

“Was Edmund innocent? No, ignorant but not innocent. He said so himself, but even then, I can’t bring myself… to hate him.” Akiro watched the men flock to the corpse, “Were there others like him? Why did I ask them that and not the others I've killed? Am…am I… feeling guilty?”

The men watched their commander fall on his back, a smile plastered over his face, his eyes closed and at peace. They were grown men, soldiers who knew they would perish at any time, but they couldn’t help but grieve where they stood.

“I don’t have that right. Compared to Edmund, who killed to protect, I killed for personal gain. In the end, how am I– how are we heroes different from the lowest goblins? We all have lives, we even have families, or perhaps loved ones…”

“I understand if you abhor me, hate me, or even curse me.” Akiro lowered the handgun to his side, “If you wish to take revenge, I will allow it. But now is neither the time or place for that. Right now you must flee.”

“Ah… there is a difference. I simply was stronger than everything I’ve faced so far.” He shook his head, his vision returning to the present moment. The soldiers that had been protecting Edmund have slowly made their way out the entrance he entered in.

“The strong rule the weak,” Akiro remembered himself saying a long time ago, but then recent events steadied his resolve once more. He remembered why he was captured in the first place because of that line of thought. It wasn’t just a fact, it was natural, it was Law. He stood at the regional apex of strength in between two countries, with only Ayama to rival or perhaps surpass him. “I was captured because the weaklings saw an opportunity… because they craved the power I had. I was just a fool.”

“Yeah, there’s no need to feel guilty– we’re just expendable tools to them.”

“How touching!”

Akiro spun around in the direction of the familiar voice, sidestepping to the left and firing everything left inside the firearm, switching targets with each attack. There were six bullets left in the magazine, but the deafening reverberation of the concussive air seemingly multiplied the rounds fired.

The target in question only smirked, even as her bodyguards dropped to the ground “Splendid accuracy and precision!” Keisha brazenly clapped with sarcastic enthusiasm, completely confident that she wouldn’t be the one riddled with holes the size of apples. Her cheering face however changed back to that of annoyance. “There were no reports about these…guns in the possessions of heroes.”

“So they are aware of technology from our world– or did they get the knowledge about them through the surveillance that had been monitoring us for the entirety of our stay. I suppose it's not so strange, concerning this facility is something that can be found on earth.” Akiro smirked, his eyes perceiving the thick barrier surrounding Keisha. “Even if I did shoot at you, I doubt it would’ve scratched that protective barrier of yours.”

“I had plenty of time to review my own memories, and there were some minute details whenever we went. In the cities, even the people we transported from Oasis city to Scavia, the shopkeepers of both capitals– they always had eyes on us– Sebastian, Kaiser’s friends…”

“Do you have any idea how much this facility is worth!?” Keisha bellowed from the cover of her barrier, “How dare you reduce it to this state!”

“Then i made the right choice,” Akiro grinned, his smile causing the veins in her forehead to bulge with rage, “I was to come here instead of run away. I wonder, what could be so important behind that door that you would come out personally?”

The scientist glared with a heinous smile, taking an orb out of her pocket. The faint glow of the item caused Akiro’s hairs to stand on end. His entire being screamed one thing: “Dodge!”