Total Devastation
Leah held her breath as she climbed the stairs. It was a room that looked like an office. There was a small desk with a drawer. The stairs continued behind the desk. A hidden staircase. She headed straight for the office door.
The gunshots must not have been audible because it's underground.
A basement hidden beneath a remote office. Thanks to the structure disguised for camouflage, it hadn't been discovered yet. Still, it was only a matter of time before they found it. She checked her gun.
9mm automatic pistol. Ammo count... 11 rounds in the magazine. One in the chamber.
"Close call."
She had no idea how many enemies there were. Holding her breath, she opened the office door and stepped out. A long corridor stretched before her, with stairs at one end. Without hesitation, she ascended. Keeping her guard up, she moved slowly upward. A single moment's mistake could lead to death.
A chill ran down her neck. The battlefield chill she hadn't felt in ages. Rather than fear, it exhilarated her.
On the upper floor were several offices, guarded by three men standing together. She observed them one by one. An office on the side of the corridor. One in front, one on each side against the walls. All three were guarding the door. They all used partial prosthetic bodies. Not high quality, judging by the awkwardly protruding metal prosthetic arms.
Thud! Her body sprang forward like a coiled spring.
Bang! Bang!
Front and side. Two heads snapped back simultaneously.
Two shots, two kills. She had aimed precisely at their heads.
"Wh-what?!"
The remaining man on the side turned toward her. He raised his gun, but it was too late.
Bang!
The bullet grazed his shoulder. It embedded in the partial prosthetic, crumpling badly and shoving him backward.
"Ugh."
He lost balance for a moment, his trigger finger faltering. She didn't miss the opening and finished him.
Bang!
"Gah!"
Blood streamed from between his eyes as he collapsed.
"Who is it?!"
No time to rest—enemies poured out from inside the office.
More inside? It was expected. She dashed across the corridor. Now accustomed to the prosthetic body, the lighter frame was actually helpful.
Bang bang!
Gunfire erupted behind her. She twisted her body just before impact and threw herself into an empty office at the end of the hall. Inside were golf clubs and a bookshelf.
"Hoo... this is fun."
Her heart pounded. A nonexistent heart racing.
Or maybe it does? They might have implemented one.
"Over here!"
The enemies swarmed. Her heightened senses sharpened. Listening to their footsteps, there were at most five. Tight space. Unorganized foes.
Melee chaos.
From inside the office, she grabbed a golf club.
Thud thud.
One, two—
Counting silently. As the enemy reached the door.
Now.
She kicked the door open hard and leaped out, burrowing between them to prevent shooting.
"Shoot!"
"No, don't shoot! Grab her!"
But she wasn't one to be caught. The first to reach for her got a metal shard as a gift.
Bang!
Bang bang bang!
She emptied the magazine immediately. What she wanted was chaos. Bullets flew without proper aim.
"Argh! Just shoot!"
Bang bang bang!
She swiftly ducked behind an enemy. A stray bullet tore through her hoodie. Blind shots felled their own, and the unharmed ones swung fists at her. Punches powered by reinforced prosthetic arms, meant to kill in one blow.
"If you wanna face me—"
She twisted slightly to dodge. Not difficult.
Crash!
The enemy's prosthetic arm smashed into the wall, and she—
Thwack!
Swinging the golf club wide, she struck his temple precisely.
"—bring a full-armor prosthetic."
All enemies down. This time, no faltering. The perfectly synced prosthetic body showed no strain.
"Not bad for short-term use... if not for this."
Blood-soaked gray hair annoyed her. She cut a strap from an enemy's clothes and tied it back. Her reflection showed in the corridor window separating the hall from the office. A woman with blood-matted hair tied back. The leather jacket from Luca was scuffed. A slender face that didn't match the corpses around her.
"Kuh. Hilarious."
She picked up a rifle and pressed on. Past the corridor littered with bodies, upward. The top floor of the building. Two rooms. She headed straight for the fanciest one in front. Anyone could tell it was the boss's office.
Screech—Bang!
Bullets rained as she opened the door. Barely dodging, she pulled back from the entrance.
"Who are you?! Why the hell are you doing this?!"
"Why? You'd be hurt if I said you didn't know the reason."
"I'm Bashi! Owner of this slave market. You don't wanna mess with me."
A trembling voice came from inside.
"Is that so? What might happen?"
"You won't set foot here again! I deal with the Sakil Cartel. You know them? Novar's worst mafia!"
"Sounds scary."
"Yeah! Turn back now, and I won't ask questions! Just get lost!"
Bashi's no fighter. More like a merchant handing slaves to the Sakil Cartel.
Simple then. Before, she'd have kicked the door to block vision. But not with this body's strength. Instead—
The door flew open.
Bang bang bang!
Bashi fired his rifle, but Leah wasn't hit. Because she wasn't there. Instead, a metal decorative piece peeked through the gap. One from the corridor display. Too light to stop bullets, but enough to obscure vision. She was lower, prone on the floor, firing the rifle.
Through the gap, under the metal piece—
Bang!
Bashi toppled cleanly. Thud! He dropped the gun and slumped lifelessly over the desk.
"Ugh."
Inside, he was unimpressive. Short and pudgy. Ill-fitting suit made him look ridiculous. Seeing her, he was shocked.
"You... you're?!"
"You get sick eating random junk."
Bang!
And so Bashi met his end in his own office. Just another day in the Sakil District slums.
She took his wallet and turned. Smooth so far.
"Just gotta get out. Then catch Marco."
Of course, more enemies ahead, but escaping with just her body would be easy unlike before. Something snagged her ankle.
A sense of incongruity. The air felt off. Strange. Her senses, stretched to the limit, signaled danger. She scanned slowly, but nothing unusual. Gunpowder and blood lingered from the fight, silence in the empty space. A lifestyle prosthetic body unfit for combat, no auxiliary systems or detection. But inside was a battlefield demon. The Empire's top warrior.
She raised her gun and fired at the stairs.
Clang!
Clang!
Ian barely blocked the incoming shot by raising his arm. The bullet ricocheted off his prosthetic limb.
"Thought you weren't ordinary. What the hell are you?"
He deactivated optical camouflage and revealed himself.
"Ian?"
Leah said, rifle aimed.
Ian showed no agitation at the barrel's end.
"Nice seeing you here. Wondering if the slave you sold off was behaving?"
Her voice was sharp. Ian raised both hands to signal no hostility.
"Misunderstanding. I came to rescue you."
"Whenever you felt like selling me off?"
"That was Marco's solo act."
"Marco's your mercenary group."
"Not anymore."
"...What'd you do to him?"
"Dealt with him."
Leah stood silent. Pondering something. Then—
Bang bang bang!
She fired suddenly. Ian reacted fast thanks to his cybernetic eye, ducking behind the stairs.
"Why?"
"Marco was my score. And you kill a comrade for someone you saw once? Like I'd trust guys like that."
"Hm... didn't see that coming."
Ian paused, then said,
"What'll make you come quietly?"
Leah smirked. He'd grasped her intent.
"A contract. Just you and me, Ian."
"Terms?"
"Same as before. Protect me."
"One-sided?"
"No. There's payment. Info."
"Info?"
"Yeah. You're... Romerian, right? Native of Romer planet. Now just ruins."
Leah continued.
"Ten years ago, the Empire labeled it rebel forces and wiped it out. Wasn't rebellion. The Arkebalt Empire's sole stain and mistake."
A moment's silence. Then Ian spat,
"...No contract."
His optical camouflage activated. He rushed up the stairs, but Leah had already hidden in the room. Deactivating again, he drew his sword. His cold eyes reflected in the black blade. He kicked the door hard.
Screech—Clang!
The door couldn't withstand his prosthetic leg's power and flew back.
Bang bang!
Leah fired the rifle—but
Clang clang!
It meant nothing before the blade. Ian closed in instantly. He swung from above down. Leah rolled aside, grabbed a golf club leaning against the wall. The black slash came again. She countered with the club.
Crack!
No chance. The club split in half. Leah charged first, boldly entering the sword's range. Sidestepping, she thrust the sharpened broken end at Ian's gut. But he caught it. She released without hesitation, spinning to kick his face with the momentum.
This time, Ian was pushed back directly.
"Calm down, Ian. Hear me out."
"...Anyone who knows about me is an enemy."
He thrust again. She didn't react much. Calmly met his gaze. His form shot forward, blade nearly touching her head.
"I know surviving Romerians."
1 cm. Distance between blade and her forehead.
"...Where?"
"That's the contract, Ian."
He glared a moment. Fierce eyes peering through long hair, sizing her up.
"Protect me. Then I'll let you meet them. Deal?"
She spread empty hands in offer. After brief thought, Ian lowered his sword.
"Deadline?"
"Details later."
"Fine."
Similar tone. Different voices. They sealed the agreement. The start of a long journey ahead.