by Marc Mulero
Eugene was in a trance. He slithered to adjust his view, seeing past a trail of heat rising from his Cryos stain until marking a guard who was raising his weapon toward Sabin. Then a jolt. A bullet soaring so fast that it made the enemy’s firearm fly out from his hand like a ghost had kicked it. A deep breath steadied his aim, and another shot split skin on the Hiezer’s shoulder, sending blood bursting from the exit wound.
The remaining enemies fell back because of the sniper fire raining from above. Some shifted their weapons in an attempt to pinpoint Eugene’s location, while others chose to deal with the threat closest to them.
“I’ve unleashed the Volt Unit Rogues,” Eugene faintly heard Coe say through radio in between shots. “You’ll know when you see them.”
“I still count two crates,” Volaina’s unmistakable Russian accent rang through. “Sabin is rounding one right now.”
“Squad Z is back on course to get the other,” Drino’s stentorian voice projected in response.
“They most likely have overrides to breach your doors,” Rodest explained to Coe. “It’s imperative you stop them beforehand.”
The sniper watched Sabin take cover and pick up his radio.
“Are your pillows getting fluffed while you make such a demand?” Sabin asked, half-jokingly. Gunfire caused the sheltering rock to shatter over him.
Eugene shook his head while keeping a protective eye forward. He watched the hunter fling a blade from around the bend that sliced into a guard’s stomach and stuck. Sabin kicked off what was left of the rock, further tightening the cord until it ripped out the guard’s guts. With a thrash of wire, the bloody blade clanged back into his grip, leaving Eugene to cringe at the gore before he adjusted his aim again.
“Move and you’re dead,” a voice warned from right above the Sin sniper.
“Fuck.”
“Drop your weapon and turn slowly,” said the Hiezer, who kept his firearm pointed steadily at Eugene’s head. “Your operation is over.”
Eugene cautiously rolled onto his back to see five guards flanking the speaker, all of whom kept their weapons on him.
The head soldier raised his communication device once he’d identified his target. “We’ve apprehended Commander Eugene, which is additional confirmation that we’re dealing with the Sin rebellion.”
“Affirmative,” General Trillus acknowledged. “End him and move on to the next sniper. Shots were fired at your three o’clock.”
All he could do was brace for his fate as the Hiezer scoped out the general’s warning. He trembled silently, going somewhere faraway mentally, reminiscing in fast forward of all of the time wasted sulking - the scenes where laughter echoed around him, where, despite longing deep down, he could never join in. It was impossible to not desperately miss the one thing that made his heart tick a little faster. But when she rose from the dead… oh what a feeling… everything rushed through him once more. It was confusing then, but was somehow a highlight for him now.
This has all felt like a long, warped dream anyway. Time’s up. You’re going to have to forgive me, Jen… I do apologize, but it looks like I have to abandon you for good this time. You’ll smile knowing I’m taking these bastards with me though.
The Sin sniper inched his hand through the pebbly terrain in reach for his rifle, using the general’s distraction to mask his agenda. He winced after every scrunch his fingers made as they crawled. It was desperate, he knew, and would never work, but he had to try. Shit, he thought, because the Hiezer at the forefront was done communicating, slipped the device onto his magnetized belt and had already lifted his submachine gun back to him.
Just do it already.
No such luck, though, because in that instant, what appeared to be a shadow flashed over Eugene, followed by a breeze that swayed his hair.
What now?
But before he could register what was happening, the head guard clumsily dropped to his level, a knife poking from his masked skull.
Lesh materialized from the fog of war like a freed wraith. Nothing but her Cryos trail proved that Eugene wasn’t imagining things, because she disappeared as fast as she came. Her arms whipped like an out-of-control windmill as she eyed critical points of each soldier and hit them all within a fraction of a second. Every movement had purpose. One hand reached back for a knife while the other released one forward, over and over until her ring was depleted. Hiezers failed to realign their aim, falling one by one to the assassin’s storm. Groans and dying breaths were her perpetual chorus this evening, one that did not disappoint.
Lesh unstuck a blade and locked eyes with him. “Get up, Eugene.”
He laid there in a brief state of shock. “I… I don’t know what to say.”
“Say nothing, just do.” She worked to retrieve the rest of her knives and motioned to the Crater beyond.
“Eugene, darling, a little help?” Sabin said in a pained voice.
The sniper flipped back onto his stomach and aligned his eye with his scope. He fired, moved his rifle, and fired again to clear a path for Sabin.
“I figured some of you would miss Drino’s warning.” Lesh twirled a blade into her ring. “Come, we have to assist the other snipers to survive this mess. I’m assuming the Hiezers guarding their jets were deployed once the flare was shot.”
Eugene raised his radio to his mouth. “Sabin, proceed cautiously from here. We have issues at the top that I have to take care of.”
“Roger,” Sabin replied.
“Why did you deviate from your path?” Eugene asked.
“To save your hides.” She pointed a finger in his face. “Volaina can handle herself.”
Eugene grabbed Lesh’s arm after getting to his feet, looking suspiciously at her along the way. Then, still holding on, he beckoned with his eyes as he took a glance in Sabin’s direction.
“Hmph, sure.” He smirked.
The hilt of her blade jabbed the sniper in the belly. “So narrowminded. I’ll take that ‘thank you’ now,” she demanded before turning and beginning her sprint.
Eugene held his stomach for a second, then followed closely behind her.
“I’ve just discovered a hidden path,” Volaina told the group. “I saw upwards of twenty Hiezers escorting a third crate before my field of vision was blocked by large rocks. There’s something strange about that route.”
“Drop the coordinates,” Coe said.
“Seventy-four, eleven, ten.”
“That’s our core’s entrance,” Coe revealed. “I’ll redirect the Rogues, but I’m afraid it won’t be enough.”
Static blew as though all connections had been severed, then silence.
Lesh eyed Eugene warily. Their mission was already in jeopardy when the unsilenced shot went off. Now, if communications were severed, not good. And then, out of nowhere, a muffled noise sounded through.
“I’m on it.”
The voice was distinct, familiar. It took both of them a second to register it, because it didn’t make any sense. “W-what the hell? Blague?” He looked up to Lesh.
She raised her eyebrows. “What are you waiting for? Go cover him!”
With rifle in hand and his body flat against the ground, Eugene peeked from the Centric Crater’s outer rim to the embedded pathway that Volaina had spoken of. His vantage point was spotty. Thin layers of arching rock blocked much of the route like a tarp with holes in it, forcing him to squirm for a better view. A silhouette of Blague blowing past his field of vision kicked Eugene into gear. He popped up, eye still plastered to the scope, staying mobile until the figure was visible again.
“I’m en route,” Blague broadcasted.
Eugene slid down the rocky hill to the second layer of flatland in search of a clear visual. He scrambled up a winding, cavity-filled stone and tipped his rifle over the first sill he found, knowing that he would be awarded some visibility of the Rogue’s secret path. He made out shadows dancing far below, and then aligned eye to scope once more to see a flash of light emanate fro
m Blague’s Desert Eagle, followed by an aggressive pistol whip to the jaw. It was like he was watching an action movie through a small screen, one that he was about to partake in.
Two Hiezers were rounding the Sin Leader’s location unbeknownst to him. But he wasn’t alone either… with a slight shift to his right, and a kick of his rifle, Eugene sent a hotly wrapped present through both bodies, causing them to stumble backward. Blague ducked, alerted to the ambush, and unloaded his clip into the dying Hiezers for good measure.
He seems more unstable than ever. Waking up from a three-day coma straight into this mode of madness?
More feet shuffled right around where Eugene’s vantage point ended. He could see up to their shins, but no more. He hit the side of a boulder in frustration. No clear shots and Blague was cornered behind a rock, alone. No sniper cover.
Options were dwindling. He could take a shot at their feet, but it was risky. Panic was rising in his chest - bad for aiming. Eyes darted frantically away from his scope in search of something, anything, another alternative. He looked up to a wall of pocked rocks somewhat fit for climbing. Fine, he told himself, flinging his rifle over his back, if this is the only way. A short hop ended with him grabbing hold of the next ledge by the tips of his trembling fingers. He grunted, thinking of Blague being fired upon, and with all of his strength, lifted himself.
“C’mon, damn it.” He kicked his feet to find some kind of grooves to support his weight and, once he felt secure, reached for his rifle and slid it through an open crevice.
“Eugene, be my eyes,” Blague called.
The sniper surveyed to find that there were many soldiers spread out, protecting the path of the third bomb.
Eugene’s eye focused through the scope. “Three o’clock, fifteen yards ahead, two elevated.”
Blague broke cover, aimed directly at the instructed location and fired at the figure in the distance. Eugene shot a moment later, targeting another guard reacting to Blague.
“Advance two clicks,” Eugene directed, scouting the area for movement.
“The western crate is recovered,” Sabin chimed in. “They are indeed explosives. So, uhh, don’t shoot them.”
“My teams are closing in on the eastern crate,” Drino said.
Eugene fidgeted while attempting to keep track of Blague sprinting downward. He jerked his rifle to the left to see Hiezer guards adjusting overhead. “Ten o’clock, six yards, one elevated,” he shouted, shifting to Blague’s one o’clock and pulling the trigger.
The Sin Leader and his adversary exchanged loud shots that ricocheted far up the layers until the loser finally collapsed out of his rocky cubby hole and rolled down the slope. Blague reloaded on his descent into the deep pit, readying for whatever came next.
Again, Eugene turned his scope to retain an aerial view of his leader. His breath caught in his chest when an entire squad crouching over the bomb came into focus.
“Blague, back up!” Eugene shouted.
It was too late.
Blague burst forward with gun blazing. Two shots straight ahead. A quick shift to his left. Bang. The Hiezers were falling, but bullets kept coming. There were too many of them. Elites, no less. And he could hear nothing but hisses as he dove backward behind the rocks, gunfire trailing his fall, and one bullet shaving his ear.
Eugene shouted in vein, as if anyone could hear him, pulling the trigger wildly to fend them back. That’s all it was, though… an empty threat, because in reality, he had little sight of the enemy, no means to get his leader out of there. Nothing.
Blague continued to inch backward, twitching as the bullets pinged closer, just seconds away from an elite rounding the rock cubby, moments away from being overwhelmed. Then he shook his head, squared his shoulders. He didn’t rise from a frenzy to die like a coward.
“Eugene! I’m taking them with me!”
Through shaky breath, the sniper looked down, stumbling to release the high caliber clip and reload, not allowing himself to believe he’d just heard those words.
“Euge-”
He looked up when he heard Blague suddenly cut out. The sound of a loud clap drew all of the attention, then another, and another, followed by the piercing noise stemming from an electrical current making its way through the air.
Both near and far, Blague and Eugene shied away from a pulse of electricity that left a crisscross of mesh imprinted in their vision. It was real though. A gigantic, voltaic net that blocked off the Hiezers, with another pulse of electricity working to fry them all.
Eugene pulled away from his gun and rummaged for his radio, still fearing for the fate of his leader. He was about to yell for backup, but a man with a ponytail, draped in forest green and silver armor walked past sizzling enemies with a contraption that housed the tails of the jolting net. Flabbergasted, he instead put the radio to his ear.
“Eastern crate is secured,” Drino confirmed. “We will group up with Blague and await acceptance at the core entrance.”
“My command will meet you there,” Coe assured.
This new ally made his way closer to Blague and pressed down on the trigger of his wide device, searing the trapped Hiezers once more to prove the threat had been eliminated.
Chapter 13
Drino nudged Blague with a bloody fist. "Good to see you with your eyes open."
The Sin Leader looked around like he’d been awoken from a nightmare, still half caught in his frenzied realm of thought. As lucidity returned, the outlines of Drino’s squadrons saluting him came into focus. A hand on his arm made him twitch like a traumatized cat.
"Crisis averted, compliments of the psychotic old man," Sabin wheezed, using Blague's body to steady himself.
Blague took a calming breath and turned to the other side to see a somber Volaina unhooking her night vision monocle. He nodded in acknowledgment at his fatigued commanders, feeling grateful that they were all still with him.
All then centered on the Rogue with a ponytail, who worked to disengage the electric netting from his metallic pulse weapon in an effort to reload it. He pulled out an advanced transmitter from his pocket and spoke into it, "Coe, we're clear. Unlatch the core."
"You have my gratitude," Blague finally spoke.
"No, Sin, it's I who should be thanking you. The Hiezers didn't even breach our doors, which means my daughter was far from harm," he commended. "Solan Grace, Volt Unit."
“Blague. And these are some of my most valued people.” He motioned around to them, still somewhat distant. Ears still ringing, mind adrift. Without another word, he wandered away to marvel at the contraption towering over him. Chatter, introductions and the like, fading into white noise as he examined the area.
The rock-like structure was artfully camouflaged in its amber stone surroundings, shrouding the entrance to the Rogue headquarters. Only after intricate inspection were there obvious signs of a manmade gateway. A long horizontal slit spanned across its entirety, large bolts of the same color were fastened along its edges, and there was a slight fading of paint at its top. On Coe’s command, the bolts turned in place, followed by an exhale of steam that shot from the door's center. Both sides yawned open, churning gears bellowing for all to hear.
There it was – blinding fluorescent light peering through the unfastened gateway like beams from the heavens. In between bright distortions were armored legs that stepped aside in unison upon sight of Solan. Weapons were lowered mechanically, in disciplined militaristic fashion.
Impressive, Blague thought with one hand shielding his eyes.
Vision eventually adjusted as the Sins fell in behind Solan. And down they went into the deepest layer of the Crater.
Now let’s see if they’re diplomatic. Will we be able to shake hands and double our numbers… coordinate our efforts… become a force? Time will tell I suppose.
The guests beheld the cave-like dome as if they’d just stepped into another dimension. Just minutes ago, everything was dark, ominous, and filled with bloodshed. Little did it
feel like they were protecting an entire city. But it turns out they were.
Engineers were elevated high atop sturdy ladders, soldering metal fixtures into the rocks, one of whom lifted his bionic goggles to get a better look at the newcomers.
"Sins… how could this scum be admitted into our core?" he muttered to a colleague, loud enough for the exiled to hear.
Blague tilted his head up at the man passing judgement.
I have to hope that not all of the Templos share the same sentiment.
"Come,” Solan said, “Coe awaits us in the northern cove."
Blague turned to address Drino. "Have anyone who can fly an aircraft accompany one of your squads. Recover the Hiezer jets that remain."
Drino dispatched the order through radio and reported back to his leader, "Reports hold that only Trillus and a handful of his elites were able to retreat. We have General Ruden in custody, and General Eremus has been slain."
"Great work," Blague commended, pacing down toward a narrow hallway filled with mechanical structuring. "Let's hope we can come to an agreement with the Rogues. Only then can we call this a win."
Drino nodded and fell in the single file line that formed to pass through another tight, illuminated passageway.
This place highlights the ingenuity of the Templos. Every cranny is tempered with innovation, and to stay hidden for so long - order, caution, discipline all play a role. I look forward to meeting the orchestrator, this person in the shadows.
The cramped area eventually bloomed into a vast, circular room. It was nothing the likes of which any of the Sins had ever seen before. Exposed gears were carved intricately into rock, gadgets hung all around for one purpose or another. It was like living inside the inner workings of a clock. And that was just overhead. Below was even more breathtaking - a transparent floor with active furnaces burning beneath. This wasn’t a voyage into a clock any longer, but more of a trip through the inside of a giant robot, one where they’d finally reached its core. At eye level, something stuck out in the distance – a bright door made of reinforced steel that was clearly vaulted shut. The room where the treasure lied, undoubtedly.