"Fall back. Repeat, fall back. Over."
"Toxian spotted. Requesting reinforcements. Over."
The battalion receded for stronger forces. The inky cyclops loomed with predatory intent, locking in on Inazo, before letting out a blood-curdling roar, surprising even its fellow Noxians. Sweat dripped from Inazo's brow, burning his eyes, as he steadied his breath and fingers.
Narrowly dodging a sweeping tendril that lashed out like a serpent, he swung back immediately, filleting its arm laterally. The Toxian however, snapped its arm back immediately, like the jaws of a crocodile.
The blade connected with its inky armour, again and again, chipping it away and sending sparks flying. The Toxian then retaliated immediately, swinging a massive arm toward him.
However, it was tipped off-balance from the previous clashes, and Inazo stepped back just in time, feeling the air ripple as the blow passed inches above away from his head.
Trading blows with this one was a one-way ticket to afterlife.
He pressed on, but each attack felt like striking water. The Toxian's form rippled and reformed almost instantly, mocking his efforts. Seeing that his efforts are futile, he retreated to give himself some space to work with.
The creature roared and lunged forward with terrifying speed, closing off all the distance he had made. Inazo barely managed to sidestep its clawed hand before countering with a horizontal slash, tearing away its ribcage and a chunk of armour.
This time, he saw a small spray of ink-like substance burst forth from the gaping cut, turning into a fountain. But it gets patched almost instantaneously.
The fight became a brutal exchange of blows. Inazo dodged and parried as best he could. A clenched fist landed like a sledgehammer on his shoulders, forcing him to his knees.
Summoning what strength he had left, Inazo aimed for the Toxian's groin with a desperate upward slash. The blade however, much to his disappointment, bounced off harmlessly.
It was the worst time to find out that the Rotspawns don't have mammalian genitals. He was screwed.
The Toxian responded with a brutal knee to his gut that sent shockwaves through his body. The force of the blow lifted him off his feet and sent blood and spit spraying from his mouth, his eyes almost escaping his eyelids.
Before he could recover, the creature grabbed him by the leg and smashed him in the group twice, before hurling him like a ragdoll into a nearby military barrier erected by the Battalion.
The impact left him dazed, all the air escaping his lungs as his diaphragm begged for it to stay. His ribs were definitely sticking into places they shouldn't be.
Barely clinging to consciousness, he tried to drag himself behind the barrier for cover. But there was no reprieve. The ground trembled again as the Toxian leaped into the air, casting an ominous shadow over any hope he had.
Time seemed to stretch, each heartbeat echoing in his ears like the tolling of a distant bell. He felt paralyzed, rooted to the spot as he clawed at the grass. The world around him slowed to a crawl, he could see every detail of the Toxian's descent, snuffing out any chance of survival.
In that moment, his life flashed before his eyes-not as a vibrant tapestry of cherished memories but as a blank canvas marred by remorse.
He was just a hollow shell, a husk of a warrior who fought without purpose.
"How pathetic... Utterly risible."
Regret swallowed him like a rising tide to a dry beach. The tears that streaked his face reminded him of the mother and his son. As despair threatened to consume him, he grasped the grass, like it was someone's hands. Someone who would pull him from the abyss, like he had done for them.
He was greeted with what he had expected.
No volunteers, just silence
----------------------------
In his final moments, as he almost gave up, he saw a glint of moonlight reflecting off blurry armour. His eyes squinted against the bright light, struggling to comprehend the situation.
As his vision quickly adjusted, he beheld an astonishing sight. The Toxian was split in two, its grotesque form cleaved apart with precision and force. The remnants slowly dissolved into the air, dissipating like shadows at dawn after complete obliteration.
"You fought well, soldier. I'll take it from here"
Inazo turned to see a figure clad in radiant, sleek black armour coated with the remnants of the battle, his cape floating dramatically as he stands amidst the corpses he had slain.
Inazo gasped, bewildered by this unexpected saviour. He tried to speak but all that came out was incoherent noise, blood and the food Jun-ko had shared with him earlier.
The swordsman joined his hands, after sheathing his rapier, to signal peace.
"Rest easy...while you can..."
As Inazo fought against the pull of unconsciousness, his vision blurred, and his body trembled under the weight of exhaustion. The silhouette of the swordsman stood just ahead, but it started getting closer. His hand was on Inazo's eyebrow. As he closed his eyes for him, Inazo noticed something.
A familiar multi-jointed hand, one that can cut through the fabric of space-time.
"Now where did the Iterant go?", was the last thing he heard.
As his eyelids kissed each other, his body involuntarily welcomed a deep slumber.
----------------------------
Inazo's vision blurs open. Few blinks, and he jolts the lids open. Looking down, he realised he was on a chair, immobilized in place. He tries to lift his hand from the chair that seemed glued to the armrest. He saw no binds, however when his vision flickered from wrist to wrist.
There was a constant radio static that filled this place. Inazo was surrounded by all types of screens, of varied sizes. The static only got more disorienting and excruciatingly painful to hear over time. It was as if his ears were being drilled.
His mouth gaped, his vocal chords straining as he screamed at the top of his lungs to drown out the static. Not a sign of his own voice could be heard. His toes curled up in the cold water that enveloped his feet up to his ankles.
A glitchy, robotic voice jolts him up and grabs his attention, punctuating the static.
"Incomplete subje-... Incom-"
....
"R... equest...ng... llumina-...tor,"
....
A woman takes control of the mic.
"Greetings, young one. Seems you made it here early this time."
....
"Ah forgot you can't speak, here... "
A click sound echoed through the chamber, and Inazo could hear his voice. His throat felt sore from screaming. He huffed and coughed, adjusting his voice.
"Who are you? Where am I? Why are you-?"
A silence as deafening as the static ensued after he asked that question. Something was off about this place, he still couldn't get up from the chair. Suddenly, the woman resumed.
"Sorry, was AFK. I was just grabbing some coffee."
"...."
"You sure you want to ask those three questions? Cuz I'm only allowing you to ask three, choose wisely...",
"Non-Asset #777."
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