THE FUTURE IS TODAY. WIELD LIGHT-BASED WEAPONRY FOR EXTENDED RANGE AND RECHARGEABLE AMMUNITION. CONVENTIONAL BULLETS OFTEN LEAD TO SWIFT DEATH OF THE TARGET, BUT A SINGLE SHOT THROUGH A LIMB WITH A LIGHT-WORTH DEFENSE C-232 LAZ-RIFLE HAS A MUCH HIGHER CHANCE TO SIMPLY MAIM AND WOUND DUE TO INHERENT CAUTERIZATION ON HIT.
A CRIPPLED AND INJURED ENEMY IS WORTH TWICE A DEAD ONE IN A WAR-ZONE, OR IT GIVES YOU THE CHANCE TO MAKE THE BASTARD WHO TRESPASSED ON YOUR PROPERTY REGRET HIS DECISIONS.
*Light-Worth makes no definitive claims on the lethality of the C-232 LAZ-RIFLE line nor any derivative or precursor models.
- Unknown, Light-Worth Advertisement Poster, (2nd Era, 2074)
A handful of troops hunkered down behind Erec on a rooftop. Not far away, the main force of their soldiers was getting into position. Erec tried to ignore the unease behind him; his handful of troops clutched their weapons so hard their knuckles went white.
Among the number of troops they had at their disposal, Erec settled on twenty-five for this operation. That left enough to secure their position, and the possessed still in their company gave him enough people to feel confident against these unknown monsters.
After all the pains they took, they were as prepared as could be.
Yet everyone was nervous except Erec. The closer he got to the fight, the more things settled in peace. Even knowing it wasn’t entirely possible to predict and plan, this battle would all fall in place for him when he had his axe in hand.
Let others stress about strategic points and designated fallback zones.
He and his friends were green, and most of human history didn’t center around fighting monsters, but it didn’t matter.All it required to win was Strength.
Erec perched near the edge of the two-story building. Below him, Colin began to walk down the street, right towards the primary host of monsters hidden among the rusted cars. Once he was within their sight, they shifted for the first time to face him. Though, they didn’t move from their spots quite yet.
This is it.
The air ignited in front of Colin as he formed a burning red glyph. Its intricate lopsided circular design appeared, then morphed into a ball-sized orb of flame which sped down the street.
His attack crashed into one of the monsters. A plume of smoke drifted upward as it seared flesh and shoved the monster onto the rusted car behind it. Two of its four hands lazily stemmed its burning face. Not a single cry of pain accompanied the damage it took, but Colin didn’t wait for it to recover; he formed another glyph and sent off another ball of fire.
He nailed a second target.
But the enemy was formidable. The large pale creatures were sturdily built and took two more attacks with minimal reaction. Erec’s gut wrenched.
It couldn’t be this simple. Why were they waiting to attack?
More fire flared down the street, and the silent ones broke stasis. As one, they lurched forward, going from frozen statues to yanking their massive bodies over the cars and rubble in their way. They staggered like rabid animals toward Colin with an alarming quick speed.
Colin booked it down the road, dashing past Erec and his team. The monsters flooded by only seconds later, giving chase with all they had.
As predicted, they slipped right by Erec and his people without noticing. They didn’t have to worry about Colin—towards the end of the street were two alleyways stuffed with another Knight and the majority of the troops. Though the creatures were fast, Colin made it there ahead of them with time to spare. The duke’s son wasted no time, spinning in place as a more complicated glyph formed before him.
Before the monsters reached their target, soldiers spilled out of the nearby alleys. Armed with spears, they quickly formed into position, crouched down, and braced their weapons against the ground.
Unthinking, the charging monsters skewered themselves on the defensive line, limbs twitching as the weapons dug deep. A few died on the spot or limited the first wave of monsters. But it wasn’t all of them. The horrible things that could still move didn’t flinch from the pain. They dragged themselves forward down the weapons, their massive hands grabbing out towards the soldiers to tear them apart.
Colin’s glyph burst to life—forming into a whip-like tendril of fire. With precision, the flame whip slashed into the first wave's surviving monsters. It tore into their hands, buying the desperate soldiers a second to drop their spears and switch to their swords.
Olivia bought them more time to prepare as more monsters crashed in, her Armor taking on a glow as she tore into a monster with her sword.
“Alright, alright.” Erec grinned as he took in the field of cars their enemy came from. Empty. All of them were now in the street below—a good fifteen to twenty.
Perfect.
His heart hammered, and the noise of it flooded his ears. Finally, a fight unlike any of those he had for weeks; the thrill was intoxicating.
One last thing.
“Tear them apart,” Erec ordered and held a fist into the sky for Garin to see on the other side of the street. His men shifted off the roof to attack from the street below. They’d hit the enemy's flank with Garin’s team. “Go.”
Forcing the monsters to fight on two sides would let them slaughter.
And that was it. No more commanding, no more worrying, nothing. All he needed to do was shed blood. Like a flint catching against steel, the spark lit up in his chest and kindled in an instant. Fast. Scarily so. Hell came to him on command now, and the grin on his face only stretched wider as time seemed to slow. Below he could see the ghost-like outlines of the monster’s projected movements as the Q.A.P stirred and transmitted flashes of information.
Freedom.
Erec drew his axe and pulled back from the edge of the roof, giving himself room. Then with a kickoff that broke a shingle, he sprinted towards the edge.
His foot hit the last inch of the building, and he slammed down with all the force he could muster, launching his body like a spring and throwing himself from the building directly toward the crowd of monsters in the street below.
Erec tore his axe through the first pale enemy; two arms lopped free and hit the ground with a wet thump even as he cracked the concrete of his landing zone. The wounded thing backpedaled at the sudden attack, its body off-center with the sudden loss of a good part of its body weight.
The puppet was too slow.
Erec took off its head, a fountain of opaque cloudy white life-blood spewing from its neck.
Not a second to spare. A monster came at him from his left—its momentum shifting as it threw itself right towards the lone target in their ranks.
Good. They came to him.
Like moths to a flame, let them come and burn themselves up in his inferno.
His axe slammed into the creature's side with a satisfying thunk, making it slouch as it severed abdominal muscles. A hand clawed at him, but he threw it aside, smashing the back of his gauntlet against the thing’s jaw, shattering it.
But more came for him.
One. Two. Blood coated their little battlefield, making the ground below slick.
One dead. Two dead. Five on him. Their blows combined stressed the limit of his ability to react. Erec began to trade their hits for deadly blows of his own.
Was this love? Nothing felt quite as sweet.
His helmet flew off as three hands yanked it with all their might. It gave him a second to take off one of their arms; dents, bruises, the split skin above his eye. All of it was inconsequential, and the pain only fueled more carnage.
Because of it, his axe never had to stop moving. Each swing cut flesh and brought blood.
Time drifted away in a fugue of battle, and before he wanted it to end, he found the edge of his battle axe buried in the last of the unintelligent monsters to challenge him. Its disgusting body shuddered and went limp. Erec shoved it away with a quick kick to its shoulder—freeing his axe.
There wasn’t much left. Further down the street his allies had joined together and taken on the rest of the monsters. All but two of them were slain, and they’d take care of those two quickly enough from how it was going.
Maybe if he ran fast enough, he could kill another—
The ground shook and he stumbled, unaware that he’d already broken out in a run toward the remaining monsters. Hell burned inside and screamed at him to recover and keep going. But a buzzing note of clarity let him pull to a brief stop.
[Tremors below. Something’s breaking through the surface!]
Erec spun around at the sound of twisting metal. The asphalt in the middle of the car lot bulged; before bursting like a popped boil as a worm-like monster broke through to the surface. Vicious teeth lined a wide maw large enough to swallow a man whole—the creature slammed into the ground, crushing a car under its weight.
“Retreat!” Garin called out from somewhere near the rest of the weaklings.
Why would he retreat?
Erec only felt burning in him, hate and joy, an almost euphoric sensation that made his skin numb. For so long, he’d only fought against scrawny-half-alive monsters wandering the wasteland. Those four-armed monsters were an exception, but they’d died too quickly.
But this monster was on a whole different level. He felt it by just looking at it. Like those giants.
There was a raw strength to how it moved, with how effortlessly it pushed earth aside and broke apart metal like it was nothing. What man would run from such a glorious chance? Erec started sprinting towards it, calling more fire into his veins.
Rolling himself into a wildfire as he burned his way down the street. Each push against the ground was a miniature launch as he forced his Strength through his legs. He tore across the landscape. The faster he reached the monster, the sooner he could sink his axe into it.
It didn’t take long to reach the wall of flesh.
His axe swung into it, but it was like a paper cut to something so big. But enough to draw its attention. The creature shifted and whipped its body at him.
Erec flew through the air, unable to breathe. His back smashed through a wall and sent him crashing across the ground inside.
Blood leaked from the corner of his mouth. His limbs shook.
This was everything he wanted.
It was like the giant again, something powerful enough to send him flying and knock everything out of him. So fucking strong. But he could be stronger; that thing was a puppet. How could it compare to him?
Erec began to push himself up.
[Whoa, Buckeroo. That’s enough, don’t you think? Try to focus on standing, and we’ll get out of here. This thing’s out of your league.]
No.
His body shook, and pain kept radiating from each movement. But the pain burned easily enough; it was deceptive, a mere ghost to deceive and convince him to lay down. Only the weak kept still. Power meant action, and stopping was death.
The monster struggled towards the middle of the town toward the fleeing soldiers, but as it crashed through the buildings with its erratic, awkward movements, it was clear it couldn’t catch up.
Erec gave way to fire and found his feet under him. He began slowly toward the enemy, his right leg shaking with every step. Something was broken or sprained, but it was inconsequential as long as he forced it to move. Erec picked up the pace, turning his struggling walk into a jog, then a full-forced run. At some point, a scream left his lips.
A war cry.
The creature turned at his challenge, a puppet yanked by strings, but unable to dismiss him. It started the process of trying to turn its massive body his way.
Too slow.
Erec ripped his axe through its side, once more scoring an extended cut on the flank of the worm.
Such a tactic couldn’t do much harm. No. But it was the opening move. Erec switched to gripping the battle axe with a single hand and shoved his gauntlet into the newly made gash in the creature’s side. And began to pull, tearing apart the leathery skin and making the wound wider, wedging his body into the damage as the beast struggled around him.
Flesh widened and grew as he forced his way into the creature, past its outer defenses. It writhed and struggled to stop him, but it was too slow. It lacked hands to pull him away as he burrowed in like a parasite. The air became hard to come by as darkness took hold as he dug further into the monster. It was wet and burning, and his skin stung from its acidic blood.
But once he was far enough in, he found more room. Enough to grab his battle axe with both hands. Enough to begin to slash, cut, and rend as the last of his air left his lungs.
Erec lost himself in hell, showered in blood, and with a grin.
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