The Allbright System - A Sci-Fi Progression LitRPG Story

Thea moved her sights towards Morin’s side of the battle, sending a silent plea to the universe to help Viladia make it out of the compound alive.

While she wanted nothing more than to help the Marine that had mentored her on her Psychic Abilities and shared invaluable information with her for free, Thea knew deep inside that the right move was to focus on the mission at hand.

They had to destroy the artillery trucks, or their entire mission would have been for naught.

With practised ease, she fired her Gram and killed with each shot, again and again, as the duplicates threatened to flank Morin behind the first artillery truck.

On the ground, Morin advanced steadily, capitalising on his robust Heavy-type armour to make bold moves while employing his Shard-Array gun to eliminate any duplicates bold enough to obstruct his forward momentum.

Darting from his position, Morin managed to take cover behind the second artillery truck, barely evading the incoming bullets that whizzed past him.

Thea was starting to feel exhausted from the intense focus she had been employing to keep her shots on-target, as well as the rapid rate of fire she had employed. This was by far the most intense gunfight she had ever been in.

Furthermore, the longer the fight went on, the more she realised that her shots invariably became slower and slower. She had internalised shooting only when her instin—Psychic senses told her the shot would hit, but this exact behaviour was now causing her fire-rate to decline rapidly.

Yet, as she questioned this anomaly, the answer revealed itself through waves of debilitating pain that convulsed her body. Furthermore, she realised that her mouth was dry and her throat burned, as if she had been gasping for air for an extended period of time.

In the heat of the battle, adrenaline had masked her deteriorating condition, allowing her to operate on a kind of borrowed time. But now, as she had focused on her deteriorating performance, the toll of her exertions became evident as her hands and arms had long before began to tremble, undermining her aim and making it increasingly difficult to suppress the mounting pain.

Each moment became a struggle, as if she were wading through an ocean of agony. It felt as though every nerve ending in her body had been set ablaze, a maddening choir of pain that screamed in cacophonous unison.

Unbeknown to Thea at the time, the Focus Overdraw that had nearly ended her life, had subtly altered her internal structure; her nerve endings had been misplaced, causing them to send faulty signals of excruciating pain coursing through her system.

As she became more aware of her dwindling capabilities, the grim reality of her situation became increasingly clear.

The adrenaline that had carried her thus far was waning, leaving her trembling hands and wavering aim as stark reminders of her body's limitations. This unbearable pain was now the price she had to pay for pushing her Abilities past their limit, and she had to make every excruciating second count for the mission at hand.

As she forced herself to return her attention to the battle at-hand, Thea watched as Morin planted the charges on the second artillery truck.

‘Just two more to go… Just keep pushing, Thea,’ she reminded herself, as her vision blurred in and out of focus from the mounting pain wracking through her body.

Grasping at the remnants of her waning focus, Thea forced her eyes to steady through the scope of her Gram. Her finger twitched on the trigger, sending out pinpoint lasers that cleared Morin's path to the remaining artillery trucks.

Each shot required monumental effort to remain on target, her entire frame quivering as if on the brink of collapse. Yet, she persevered, steadfastly scanning the battlefield for any sign of Duplicators; the true puppet masters she could pick off to slow the flood of duplicates.

Morin, for his part, seemed to be a juggernaut of determination and raw power.

As he rounded a corner to approach the third artillery truck, he was momentarily caught off guard by the presence of two duplicates. Gunfire erupted, and Thea's heart sank as she saw him take two more hits. His heavy armour clattered alarmingly, a chunk of it shredded away by the close-range blast, leaving his left arm limp and bleeding profusely.

But Morin was undeterred.

With a guttural roar, his Shard-Array gun burst to life, sending a lethal grid of shards that turned the duplicates into bloody heaps of unrecognisable carnage. The man seemed like an unstoppable titan, even as he staggered from the impact of his wounds.

Thea couldn't help but marvel at Morin's resilience and determination, even as her own body screamed for relief. With renewed resolve, she lined up another shot, reminding herself that they were all paying a steep price this day, and failure was not an option.

They were so close; two more trucks and the mission would be a success.

And so, gritting her teeth against the agony coursing through her, to the point she felt pieces of her teeth rupture and split, Thea steadied her aim once more, determined to see this mission through to its bitter end.

Morin hastily affixed the explosive charges to the third artillery truck, pausing for a brief moment to regain his breath. Just as another duplicate emerged around the corner, gun aimed at Morin, its head disintegrated into a cloud of red mist, courtesy of a perfectly-timed shot from Thea's Gram.

She watched as Morin, visibly fatigued, assessed the situation ahead; a dozen or more duplicates were fortified behind the fourth and final artillery truck, their weapons aimed in his direction.

Although she managed to eliminate a few, it felt like a futile effort. For every duplicate she took down, another seemed ready to step into its place.

A sense of despair began to envelop her. "How am I supposed to deal with this shit? There's no way I can take them all out," she thought in between laboured, shaky breaths, the weight of their seemingly impossible task heavy on her shoulders.

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted when a high-calibre round shattered a tree branch just metres above her position. The dislodged branch plummeted past her, narrowly missing her perch and crashing onto the ground below.

This harsh reminder of her own vulnerability redoubled her resolve.

Until that moment, she hadn't realised the extent to which she'd been relying on her Nanobot Swarm to obfuscate her position. She'd been so focused on providing Morin the support he needed that she'd paid no heed to the Stellar Republic's counter fire aimed in her direction.

Suddenly, she caught sight of a full squad of Stellar Republic soldiers entering the forest, only about a hundred metres away from her own hidden perch. A pang of dread surged through her, yet almost as quickly, she dismissed it.

Resigned to her fate, Thea returned her focus to her Gram's scope, zoning in on Morin's position. If completing the mission meant she wouldn't make it out alive, then so be it.

All that mattered now was the objective—destroying the artillery trucks to cripple the Stellar Republic's capabilities.

For a moment, she hovered on the edge of despair, but then she hardened her resolve.

Each shot she took was a step closer to achieving their mission, and if she had to lay down her life for it, she would do so without a second thought. The pain, the trembling, her own mortality—all of it paled in comparison to the weight of the mission at hand.

So she steadied her shaking hands as best as she could, ignored the agonising screams of every nerve in her body, and continued to pull the trigger.

Morin seemed similarly invigorated by Thea’s renewed rapid-fire support, as he pushed himself up from the truck he had leaned against and started blind-firing around the corner of the truck towards the duplicates hiding behind the final truck.

Much to Thea’s delight, it seemed that she had managed to discourage a lot of the duplicates from trying to shoot Morin in the back with her previous efforts, as only sparingly few duplicates tried to approach him from behind. The few that dared were swiftly dealt with by a super-energised bundle of photons from Thea’s Gram.

Grimly focused, Thea pulled out another capacitor magazine and slammed it into her Gram.

The metallic click of the new magazine locking into place was drowned out by the constant banging of blood in her ears, but to her, it signalled another brief moment of readiness—a quick reprieve before plunging back into the chaotic dance of bullets and blood.

Then, Morin saw an opening.

Bursting from his cover behind the third truck, he made a mad dash for the final artillery vehicle. Thea's heart raced as she watched him through her scope, willing her shots to clear his path. But despite her best efforts, Morin took two heavy rounds to the chest. The impact staggered him, and for a terrifying moment, Thea saw him stumble and begin to fall.

Before hitting the ground, however, Morin's outstretched hand made contact with the earth. In a split-second, his falling momentum was converted into forward thrust. Utilising his signature Ability, he accelerated along the ground and came to a skidding stop beside the fourth and final artillery truck, smashing his helmeted head into its cold metal exterior. The helmet held, miraculously, saving him from a concussive end.

Summoning the last reserves of his strength, Morin turned to face the approaching duplicates, some of which evaporated into a mist of red from Thea’s continued fire.

In a brazen act of defiance, he outstretched his hand toward them.

For a single, suspended moment, the duplicates hesitated. It was as if time itself stood still, awaiting the outcome of this face-off. Then, Morin clenched his fist, and the moment shattered.

The duplicates opened fire.

Just as the duplicates unleashed a salvo of bullets toward Morin, his clenched fist triggered the charges he had so meticulously planted, as well as the remaining charges on his body—the very body that was now nestled firmly against the fourth and last remaining truck.

The initial explosion was a rippling force of monstrous magnitude, blooming outward in a concentric shockwave that tore through metal and flesh alike. The air was suddenly thick with the acrid smell of burning oil and scorched earth, its atmosphere supercharged with a terrifying energy.

A deafening roar erupted, eclipsing all other sounds, as if the very heavens were wailing in response to the unleashed destruction. Fire shot into the sky, becoming a pillar of flame and smoke that seemed to pierce the very sky itself. It was a cataclysm in miniature, an armageddon contained to this single focal point on the battlefield.

Following closely behind the primary explosion, secondary detonations erupted as the artillery shells stored within the trucks ignited. Each subsequent explosion multiplied the chaos, sending shrapnel flying in all directions, a deadly hail that left nothing in its wake unscathed. The blasts rippled through the ground, shaking the earth as if it were a mere plaything in the hands of gods.

The heat was unbearable, even from a distance. Thea felt a large portion of the wave of superheated air on her perched position, through the fully-sealed Spectre armour.

The very air seemed to warp and shimmer around the site of the explosion, as the immense temperatures caused a mirage-like effect, making the reality of the destruction almost too nightmarish to comprehend.

In that instant, everything within the vicinity of the artillery trucks was vaporised or rendered into unrecognisable wreckage. What remained of the duplicates became mere silhouettes, shadows etched onto whatever was left standing in that hellish landscape.

From her vantage point, Thea watched the cataclysm unfold, momentarily stunned by the utter obliteration that had just taken place. The entire compound had been levelled by the combined explosive power of Morin’s charges and the artillery’s own supply.

Only the duplicates and the roughly dozen-or-so Duplicators that had been outside the compound after the initial breaching of the wall had been spared the instantaneous obliteration.

Despite the unbearable pain coursing through her body, a sense of awe and relief washed over her.

Morin had done it; they had done it.

The mission was a success.

However, the brief respite was shattered as Thea's attention shifted away from the mission's success. The pain she had been doggedly suppressing crashed over her like a tidal wave, suddenly impossible to ignore any longer.

The pain that engulfed her was beyond description, as if every fibre of her being was drenched in liquid fire. It was a searing, all-consuming agony that radiated from her core and set every nerve-ending ablaze. The sensation was so intense that her mind could scarcely process it; it was as if her entire internal structure had shifted, setting her nerves ablaze in a chaotic arrangement of utter torment.

Unable to maintain her posture any longer, she collapsed onto her perch, her body convulsing uncontrollably. Guttural screams tore through her lips, primal releases of the unspeakable agony that held her in its merciless grip.

Her limbs twitched spasmodically, her fingers clawing at the wood beneath her as if trying to escape her own skin. Every convulsion felt like a fresh wave of fire coursing through her, each scream a futile attempt to expel the suffering that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in her very cells.

Just when Thea felt she was on the verge of losing her sanity from the inescapable pain, the faint murmur of enemy soldiers talking reached her ears from below…

- POV: Veridian -

"I can't believe it... They actually took out the artillery?" Veridian exclaimed, his voice tinged with disbelief. His squad members shared the sentiment.

"How did this even happen?" Ryder asked, breaking the silence that followed.

"Must be at least half a dozen snipers in here, right?" Kaida interjected, worry lacing her voice.

Taking the role of squad leader, Veridian interceded before despondency could set in. "Intel indicates just one sniper."

Seeing Kaida gearing up for a rebuttal, he quickly added, "I get it, it's hard to believe one person could do all that. But that's what we were told, so prepare for the worst, but don't assume more threats than are confirmed, understood?"

A chorus of affirmative murmurs resonated around him as they each steadied their weapons, ready to engage. Their orders had sounded straightforward: "Locate and neutralise the sniper."

However, the actual task proved to be far more challenging.

Whoever the sniper was had taken great pains to choose an incredibly elusive perch and had concealed their precise location through some form of illusion. Consequently, they had spent the last few minutes wandering the floor of the Azure Forest, trying to find any trace of the elusive UHF sniper who had attacked their compound.

Despite the obliteration of the compound, their objective hadn't changed. Eliminating the sniper would mean they hadn't failed entirely; they'd at least have some answers about the calamity that had just unfolded.

Much of the events at the compound were an enigma to Veridian, but he was certain that the UHF sniper held the key to understanding it—whether dead or alive.

"Okay, let's start searching for any signs of—" Veridian's instructions were abruptly cut off by a spine-chilling scream that echoed through the forest.

The scream was unlike anything they'd ever heard—a piercing wail of unadulterated agony, its sound distorted and magnified by millions of nanobots to an almost otherworldly level. It was a sound born from a throat raw from ceaseless screaming, a cry so filled with pain that it seemed to transcend the human experience.

For a moment, the squad froze, visibly unnerved by the chilling cry. Faces turned pale and hands tightened around weapon grips, their earlier bravado diminished. Veridian snapped back to reality first, locking eyes with his team.

"Stay close, weapons at the ready. Whatever's causing that scream, we need to find it. It might be one of ours. Keep your guard up," he ordered, reigniting a semblance of resolve within the squad.

As they cautiously proceeded through the forest, the horrific screams continued to reverberate through the dense foliage, each one more agonisingly tortured than the last. The effect was harrowing, chipping away at their nerves, but they pressed on, compelled by duty and the thought that one of their own soldiers might be creating these screams under torture.

As they delved deeper into the forest, nearing the supposed location of the UHF sniper, the light gradually dimmed, the dense canopy above filtering out the sun's rays. They found themselves enveloped in a haunting twilight, the forest eerily silent save for the intermittent screams of unimaginable suffering that punctuated the still air.

Navigating through the underbrush of the Azure Forest, the squad moved cautiously, their senses heightened by the enveloping shadow and the screams that had plagued their mission.

Each rustle of leaves beneath their boots seemed amplified, every creak of the ancient trees surrounding them adding another layer of tension to the thickening atmosphere. Their eyes darted nervously from one dark corner of the forest to another, searching for any sign of the elusive sniper.

The tension reached a boiling point when Kaida suddenly broke rank, turning to face Veridian. "Look, this is insane. We should get to a nearby military base and call for backup," she insisted, her voice tinged with a sense of urgency that couldn't be ignored.

Veridian shot her a stern look. "And leave the mission unfinished? What do you think that will do to our reputation, let alone the strategic value of eliminating the sniper? What about the soldier being tortured?!"

"But we don't know what we're walking into," Kaida retorted. "For all we know, this sniper has some kind of superweapon!"

Members of the squad began to murmur in agreement, some siding with Kaida while others defended Veridian's point. The tension escalated, their voices rising in a discordant blend of anxiety and frustration.

It was Ryder who interrupted the growing argument. "Guys," he hissed, his eyes wide with a look of terror beneath his visor. "Shut up and listen!"

Everyone froze, turning their attention to Ryder. The forest seemed to close in around them as they realised what he meant.

"The screams...they've stopped," Ryder whispered, his voice barely above a breath, yet carrying a weight that hushed the squad instantly.

A chilling silence fell over the group. Indeed, it was true: the screams that had been near-continuous, albeit sporadic, had ceased entirely for the past minute or two.

That realisation struck them like a bolt of lightning, galvanising the squad as the weight of what that could mean settled in. In that quiet moment, every rustle of leaves, every distant animal call, and even the breaths they took seemed unbearably loud.

As they exchanged glances, a silent understanding rippled through the squad: Whatever was out there had either completed its grim task or, even more unsettling, had become aware of their presence.

Taking command with practised authority, Veridian quickly laid out his plan. "Everyone, create two duplicates. We need eyes on our flanks. Let's not make it easy for this sniper."

In a moment, their numbers swelled from six to eighteen, as duplicates took formation alongside their originals, weapons trained on the surrounding forest.

Feeling a bit more secure, Veridian led the way towards the last reported location of the UHF sniper, his own duplicates flanking him as they advanced. Just as they were gaining some semblance of momentum, a laser streak shot through the canopy, its point of origin muddled by a swirling mass of nanobots that refracted the beam.

Before anyone could react, Ryder's head evaporated into a cloud of mist, his body collapsing to the ground in tandem with his duplicates, as if they were bags of freshly harvested grain.

The forest erupted in gunfire as the squad released a barrage of rounds into the trees above, their faces a mix of panic and determination. "Cease fire! Cease fire!"

Veridian shouted after a few seconds, halting the chaos. His eyes scanned the canopy, "If anything was up there, it's dead now. Keep it together, we have a mission to complete."

Pausing to consider their options, Veridian relayed his thoughts via the squad-comms. "We need eyes up there. Fighting someone who has both high ground and positional advantage is a losing game."

Calla responded without hesitation, "I've got a grappling hook. I can get up there and take my duplicates with me."

"Do it," Veridian commanded, leaving no room for uncertainty. They had to neutralize that sniper; Ryder's death wouldn't be in vain. He was a good man and didn't deserve such an end.

Turning his attention back to the remaining squad members, Veridian laid out his plan. "We're going to create a diversion to give Calla the opportunity to get up there and locate the sniper. Let's make as much noise as we can to draw their attention, but stay low and keep your heads down."

Executing the diversion was a precise operation—no room for error.

Veridian and the rest of his squad set up at key points in the clearing, taking cover behind trees and boulders. On his signal, they launched a series of incendiary grenades into the air, their arcs designed to produce a curtain of fire and light that would both illuminate the treetops and distract any observer from Calla's ascent.

Just as the first grenade detonated in a dazzling burst of flame, they also opened fire with their assault rifles, sending a hail of bullets into the undergrowth and the canopy above. The cacophony was deafening, the glare blinding. It felt like they had transformed the forest into a warzone in the span of seconds.

But just as they thought they might have given Calla enough cover, an explosion of an entirely different calibre ripped through the forest.

It was like a clap of thunder and a burst of heat combined, sending Kaida, Nyx, and their duplicates sprawling through the air. They crashed into nearby tree trunks, the impact breaking wood and armour alike. Three duplicates disintegrated instantly, evaporating in a mist of particulate matter.

Both Kaida and Nyx were visibly injured, the shrapnel from the explosion embedding itself into their armour and flesh.

"Zegar!" Veridian barked, his instincts shifting immediately to triage mode. His mind raced through the variables—their positions, the blast radius, the potential angles of attack. Time felt both accelerated and slowed as he evaluated his options.

Channelling his Faction Trait, Veridian summoned another two duplicates, reaching his maximum capacity of four. They materialised beside him, fully armed and eerily identical.

He directed them to form a human barricade around the injured Kaida and Nyx, as well as Zegar, who had already started sprinting toward the wounded with his medical kit in hand.

The duplicates moved efficiently, their bodies becoming both shields and obstacles, obstructing any line of sight that could lead to another disastrous shot. In that moment, all that mattered was keeping his team safe, countering this unseen enemy, and getting out of this Emperor-forsaken forest alive.

In the ensuing instant, his heart seized as a body plummeted to the ground before him, landing with a gruesome thud. The wail that followed was a renewed cry of pure agony, now more guttural and primal than ever.

Frozen for a moment in sheer disbelief, Veridian finally pushed himself into motion, stepping toward the fallen body. Carefully, almost unwillingly, he turned it over, dreading the confirmation of his worst suspicions. And there it was—a tiny, pristine hole through Calla's helmet, telling the tale of an execution as clean as it was brutal.

A wave of despair and panic surged within him, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. He had just lost two of his closest friends in the span of moments. Kaida and Nyx were injured, teetering on the edge of life and death, and all around them, the otherworldly cries of agony still echoed through the nanobot swarm that shrouded the forest. The weight of the moment settled on him like a shroud; he was their leader, their lynchpin, and he had failed them.

There was no discernible way out, no exit strategy that could undo the grim realities that had unfolded so quickly. And as if mocking his despair, the wails resumed, each one a dissonant symphony that seemed to resonate with his very soul, etching itself into the dark recesses of his memory to haunt him for whatever remained of his life.

Another explosion tore through the forest, momentarily fracturing Veridian's focus and drawing his and his clones' eyes toward the blast, despite his best efforts to keep them vigilant. That lapse in attention was all it took. A thud followed by a shattering sound drew their gazes back to the tree against which the wounded had been propped.

Time seemed to slow as they turned, their hearts sinking in unison. Nyx lay on the ground, a clean hole drilled through the centre of his head. Around the hole, crystalline shards of some unidentifiable ammunition were embedded in the azure trunk, as if the very forest was mourning the fallen. The ammunition had fragmented upon impact, its splinters digging into the tree like some horrid blossoms of death.

In that moment, as Nyx's lifeless form slumped against the tree, horror washed over Veridian like a tidal wave. He had taken every precaution, formed every plan, and yet, one by one, his friends were falling, each loss chipping away at his resolve, eroding his ability to hope.

It was a ruthless, calculated hunt, and they were the prey.

Despair clawed at Veridian's soul, darkening his vision as if the very air had thickened around him. With a surge of emotion, he yelled into the eerie silence of the Azure Forest, "FACE ME, BANSHEE!" His voice was a guttural growl that echoed, bouncing off the trunks and reverberating through the leaves.

Slowly, he began to turn on the spot, his rifle poised and ready, his eyes frantically scanning the labyrinthine tangle of branches, the canopy, the underbrush, and the shadowy recesses at the base of the azure trees. Each moment that ticked by was a void of despair, filled only by the hope—the sheer, desperate hope—that he could force this nightmare to show itself.

As he continued his open challenge to the creature, feeling more like a hunted animal than a soldier, a steadying hand landed on his shoulder. He jumped, nearly discharging his weapon before the synaptic link with his clones informed him of the newcomer's identity. It was Zegar, his eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and determination.

"Veridian, you need to calm down," Zegar spoke softly but firmly, his words cutting through the fog of Veridian's despair. "Kaida is still with us. She's relying on you, on us, to get her out of here."

The words pierced Veridian's storm of emotions, anchoring him in a newfound sense of purpose. Zegar was right; the despair that threatened to consume him would do no good for those who remained. For Kaida. His grip tightened around his weapon, not out of desperation but resolve. If this creature, this "Banshee," wanted to face him, then so be it.

But not before he did everything within his power to get his remaining squad out of this alive.

One of his duplicates assisted Kaida to her feet, her grip on her weapon unwavering despite her injuries. A flicker of pride passed through Veridian at his squadmate's unyielding spirit; his friend's indomitable will. But as his smile began to form, it abruptly froze in place.

Another one of his duplicates, one not busy assisting Kaida, had caught sight of something he'd just started to hope he would never have to see.

Just as he was about to issue another order, one of his duplicates zeroed in on a humanoid shape materialising near a tree at the edge of their clearing. It took Veridian’s frightened mind a fraction of a second to realise it hadn't appeared out of thin air; the figure was draped in some sort of adaptive camo cloak that blended seamlessly with the forest backdrop.

As the figure raised its head, shrouded in the cloak's inky-black shadows, it looked like a disembodied head of pure darkness—a corporeal form of oblivion itself.

Before Veridian could even think of a countermove, the figure swiftly raised its left hand, brandishing a compact firearm. Time seemed to stretch in that adrenaline-fueled moment, as he could almost see the single, crystalline projectile hurtling through the air.

It found its mark with lethal accuracy, piercing through Zegar's helmet and skull, then shattering against a tree trunk behind them with a sound reminiscent of breaking crystal.

Fury and despair welled up inside Veridian and his duplicates in that instant. All at once, they opened fire on the figure, bullets slicing through the forest air. But before they could confirm a hit, the figure vanished behind the tree trunk, its adaptive camo cloak once more blurring its form into the surrounding environment.

Overcome with pure rage, Veridian activated his System Abilities.

‘Rapid Acceleration.’

‘Boundless Step.’

‘Eyes of Amber.’

His vision turned into an orange-hue, as the world around him became infinitely sharper to his senses. [Eyes of Amber] allowed him to briefly get a vast increase to his sight, when within a forest-type environment.

He stepped forcefully onto the ground below him, letting [Boundless Step] and [Rapid Acceleration] take him to the tree where his clone had spotted the figure in a mere fraction of a second.

Without wasting any time, he moved his massively accelerated body around the tree and opened fire blindly, just as his enhanced eyes caught the outlines of a figure grappling onto the branches of a nearby tree.

Swivelling his gun in a smooth, unbroken motion, he unleashed his entire magazine into the ascending shape. A renewed, guttural wail of agony rang out, this time absent the otherworldly distortion.

Seconds later, an object plummeted to the ground from the branches where the figure had been climbing.

With his hyper-accelerated speed, Veridian swiftly grabbed the fallen object and returned to the clearing just as his [Rapid Acceleration] wore off. Examining it, he took a moment to grasp its significance: it was a full-face mask, typically used by soldiers in Light-type armor that lacked sealed helmets.

"So it's just the sniper..." he mumbled, almost feeling foolish for having imagined a supernatural predator stalking him and his squad.

"You're injured, aren't you?" Veridian called out, elevating his voice to issue a challenge. "We're both suffering—you're wounded, and I'm haunted by loss. You took my squad-mates from me. My friends. Understand that you can't walk out of this forest alive. Show yourself, let's settle this face to face. No more deception, no more tricks."

With a deliberate movement, Veridian unslung his gun and let it drop to the ground. He made sure the action was visible from every direction.

"See? I'm disarmed. Let's end this, man to man," he declared, his words echoing through the unsettling silence of the forest.

His strategy was straightforward: lure the sniper into the open, then have one of his hidden duplicates take the shot. The duplicate was positioned behind a tree, out of sight based on the sniper's last known location.

"So you're the UHF sniper, huh? The one who took down our men at the compound?" He continued to taunt, slowly turning in a circle and employing his [Eyes of Amber] to catch even the slightest sign of the sniper's whereabouts.

Just then, an unusual noise reached his ears. Whipping around as fast as he could, his eyes locked onto the source of the sound—a white-foam grenade, lying unprimed in the dirt. Instantly, he realised his error: It was a decoy.

Swivelling back to face the other direction, his duplicates scanning the canopy with their own amber-enhanced vision, he was caught off guard by a sudden thud in front of him. The rush of wind from the figure's rapid descent whisked the cloak away from its head, revealing a face that was the epitome of pure, unfiltered terror.

Veridian's eyes met those of the figure, and his world shattered.

It was the face of a girl, but a version of one he had never seen nor could have imagined—a grotesque amalgamation of what might have once resembled a person.

Her eyes, self-illuminating and a haunting shade of cyan, glowed ominously. Her skin was a disarray of patchwork flesh, misaligned and grotesque, a result of some illegal experiment gone awfully wrong. A portion of her jaw was missing, yet she bore a smile—a ghastly, unsettling grin that seemed to cleave her face in two, all the while blood kept seeping from it in torrents.

In that surreal instant, Veridian heard the sound of shattering crystal behind him.

He saw himself, from the viewpoints of his duplicates, being shot in the heart at point-blank range, from three different angles.

With a last cough of blood, he choked out a single word, “Banshee.”

The world splintered into fragments of sensations, a kaleidoscope of despair and disbelief, before plunging into a darkness that would stretch on for an eternity…

- PoV: Viladia -

Running.

Racing through the terrain, Viladia hadn't paused since she bolted from the compound.

Every ounce of her energy was focused on covering as much ground as possible under the shroud of her [Umbra’s Veil]. But everything changed when she saw the two explosions rip through the forest canopy—unmistakable signs that Patches was in the heat of battle.

Viladia had encountered several members of "Alpha Squad"s during her tenure as a Marine, but this new recruit was an anomaly.

Not only was she a Wielder, but her mastery over her abilities was also eerily refined—far beyond what any recruit should be capable of. True, the young soldier had gaps in her knowledge, like her recent misunderstanding of Einor's [Focus Link], but these were all correctable flaws.

Viladia was sure this recruit was on the path to greatness, and she was thrilled at the prospect of witnessing her ascent firsthand.

Just as her thoughts began to solidify, her [Umbra’s Veil] faltered, exposing her to the barrage of bullets from her relentless pursuers. Badly injured but still standing, she finally made it to the tree-line near their original staging area.

Patches had to be close; those explosive last resorts were her signature move. If she had survived whatever ordeal had prompted their use, they'd be reunited soon. Viladia pushed through the pain and advanced, fueled by the newfound urgency to find her squadmate.

Grimacing with every step, Viladia made her way through the forest's underbrush, her movements sluggish and hindered by her wounds. The sounds of her pursuers grew louder, each footstep and shout amplifying her sense of desperation. Gunfire tore through the foliage around her; projectiles whizzed by, each narrowly missing her but serving as a reminder that her chasers were closing in.

With her Focus depleted and Stamina running on fumes, she felt the weight of her limitations. Her guns, lost during the frantic escape, were now a haunting absence at her side. She still had her pitch-black blades, but they were rendered almost useless—ornamental even—given her depleted state.

Each agonising step forward was a battle against not just her physical injuries, but a rapidly waning hope. She tried to move briskly, but her body rebelled, each motion sending waves of pain that staggered her advance.

Her thoughts circled back to Patches—had she survived? Where was she? A bitter thought crossed her mind: Perhaps Patches hadn't made it either, and her desperate trek was merely a prelude to an inevitable end.

With every pause for breath, the certainty of her grim situation sunk in deeper.

Viladia's spirit felt as ragged as her body, her hope diminishing as quickly as her ability to keep moving. Yet she continued, a tiny ember of resolve refusing to be extinguished, driving her onward even when logic said it was futile. She pushed through the underbrush, each agonising step a defiant statement against the ever-encroaching pursuers behind her.

Suddenly, she felt herself being shoved to the ground by a force descending from above. The brief rustle of what sounded like a cloak reached her ears just as she hit the earth, too swift for her to react.

She yearned to fight back, to defy whatever or whoever had caught her, but her body was simply too drained for resistance.

With a final, resigned sigh, she accepted what seemed to be her inevitable fate..

- PoV: Thea -

Thea laboriously hauled her mangled form from one branch to the next, desperately navigating through the azure forest canopy.

Her right arm was in tatters, the Gram once adhered to it now utterly obliterated, with only fragments stubbornly clinging on where adhesive tape had held fast. Her left leg, perforated by bullets from the Stellar Republic soldier, offered little more than a limp response to her commands.

A tumble from the treetops, taken while attempting to eliminate the last standing soldier, had only served to exacerbate her condition—her right leg was clearly fractured from the fall, sending jolts of pain surging through her with each agonising step.

Her visage bore the grim signature of combat; half her jaw hung slack, severed by a stray shot from the amber-eyed freak; dried blood drawing a bloody streak down her chin and neck.

Long past the point of vocalising her pain, her shredded vocal cords were now mute, a silent reminder of her body's crescendo of agonising nerve signals that, instead of lessening, had only continued to intensify during her relentless battle against the squad sent to hunt her down.

In this state of overwhelming agony, Thea's consciousness had frayed at the edges, reduced to little more than a primal force propelling her through the trees.

Every facet of her training, every complex thought or emotion, had been subsumed by an all-consuming drive for survival. Vision blurred, her surroundings were nothing but indistinct shapes and hues of azure; sound had lost all meaning except as potential indicators of threat.

Her mind, too, had become a maelstrom of raw, unfiltered instinct. No room for strategy, no room for sentiment—only the relentless, unyielding urge to survive.

Find shelter. Seek safety.

Every twitch of a leaf or snap of a twig sent adrenaline spiking through her system, both fuel and curse in her agonised state.

Though devoid of articulate thought, her body knew the protocol of pain: Keep moving, find cover, minimise exposure.

And so she did, each movement an agony, each breath a searing gulp of fire, her existence pared down to its most elemental form.

Somewhere, in a far corner of her mind not yet fully consumed by suffering, the concept of 'Thea' clung stubbornly to life. But for now, she was a creature of pure instinct, a wounded animal making its last desperate bid for survival.

Time and again, the grappling hook of her Spectre armour fired, dragging the shattered form once recognized as 'Thea' in its wake.

Silent cries of torment yearned to break free from a throat too damaged to give them voice, each motion an unspoken agony threatening to snuff out the last embers of life from the strange concept of whatever a ‘Thea’ might have once been.

Yet, something, somewhere, kept the feral being going.

Like an unbreakable law, a rule that it refused to yield holding onto.

- PoV: ??? -

Noise!

Unsteady footsteps. Laboured breaths.

Erratic strides. Further gasping.

Wounded... Prey!

Launch grapple. Excruciating pain. Endless torment.

More sound.

Heavy breathing. Scent of blood.

Vulnerable foe.

Easy target… Above.

Descend. Impact.

Perfect landing. Prey... resigning?

Black hair. Pitch-black armour.

Memories? 'V... Viladia?'

Prey looks up.

Prey... mournful?

Prey reaches out? NO TOUCH!

Not prey? Viladia. Ally.

More noise!

Nearby!

Conceal self! No... protect friend!

Hide both! Use cloak!

Viladia... moves?! Quick!

AGONY! TRAITOR...?!

Warmth... Darkness...

No pain.