The Wall Still Holds

Screeech.

A torn shutter rattled in the wind.

Noise raised a hand.

"Left alley clear. We go that way."

Geomeunburi didn't answer. He flicked his fingers instead—short, sharp.

Click. Click.

The two wolf-types split left and right at once.

I swept the ground first.

Less snagged on my Spirit Sense than expected—only the dead, and things that were hiding. Most of the Infected had already flooded upward, chasing louder noise and thicker blood-scent.

That let us pick up speed.

Not that it meant we passed through quietly.

"Fuck, what is that."

Someone spat a curse from deeper in the alley.

"Don't touch it. That thing ain't—!"

Outside District 30 right now was no place for ordinary refugees to wander. Anyone who hadn't fled to the end was already dead, or buried somewhere deep. The ones crawling the ruins were a different breed.

Scavengers picking dead men's pockets. Bottom-tier mercs looking to skim a cut no matter which way the board flipped. Fixers and drifters with a single gun, watching the situation play out to the last second.

The wolf-types growled low and opened the path. Geomeunburi strolled through the gap at an easy pace. I slid a little ahead of him, skimming long over the ground as if raking it clean.

"Hey, move. I said move."

"I know, damn it. Don't shove."

The ones in hiding peeled themselves out of the way first.

A few still wouldn't let go.

As we tried to clear one more alley, Spirit Sense caught a presence that wasn't among the dead. Under an overturned cargo hauler, a man who'd been lying face-down like a corpse slowly lifted his torso.

Click-clack.

The muzzle of a compact pulse carbine came up. At the same time, two more burst from behind a scrap pile. One wore a wrist launcher strapped to his forearm; the other held a palm-sized jamming plate, a blue line flickering across it.

Bang!

A round scraped off steel plate.

"Noise—back."

I was already moving.

The line Spirit Sense showed ran down under the gunman's throat. An unarmored joint. Space Art seized that line, and the distance that had been open between us collapsed in a single breath.

His face locked up.

"Wh—"

Thuk.

I skimmed the joint beneath his neck. The man with the gun went down where he stood.

The other two scrambled back at once.

"Crazy son of a—"

"Run!"

They vanished deeper into the alley, gear abandoned. No need to chase them further.

Noise closed in immediately.

"There's salvage here."

"One compact pulse carbine. Two battery packs. The comms plate is half-dead, but the link still seems live."

Geomeunburi jerked his chin at the rest of the gear.

"That?"

Noise checked it fast.

"Wrist launcher. One round left."

"Good. Take it."

Noise shoved it into his belt without a word.

The same pattern repeated a few more times.

Another muzzle rose from behind a collapsed signboard.

Click-clack.

Grrrr.

Before Geomeunburi could even flick his fingers, one of the wolf-types bared its teeth low. The muzzle slowly lowered. The man behind the wall swallowed his curse and melted away.

Even scavengers who were still alive knew fear.

Infected were different.

Thud.

One of them lunged out of a side alley.

I stretched Spirit Sense.

First thing that showed was a thin seam running from under the throat into the chest. Spirit Force lay thinly over my scales.

The Infected's tentacle scraped the ground. I used my small body and slipped in underneath it.

Thuk.

The tip of my tail, loaded with Spirit Force, stabbed the line. Inside the flesh the core crumpled; the tentacle flailed in empty air and went slack.

Noise shouted before we could stall.

"Right side blocked!"

Geomeunburi answered at once.

"Left?"

"Heavy debris!"

"Anywhere else we can punch through?"

"If someone opens a path up front, yes!"

The corner of Geomeunburi's mouth twisted.

"You heard him?"

I was already turning.

Spirit Sense caught the thin seams first. Space Art locked onto those lines, sharp and clear. Spirit Force filmed my scales; my body drove into the gaps.

I stitched distance, broke angles.

The seam under a throat. The rib-like split. The black line curling into the shell.

Spirit Sense saw it; Space Art held it. Every time spirit-coated scales skimmed those joints, an Infected core collapsed one by one.

It didn't feel like wringing power out of myself the way it used to.

Another Infected burst in from the side. My body drove in first. Spirit-coated flesh skimmed its center.

Thuk.

The core crumpled. The tentacles lost their strength.

Spirit Sense really was reaching farther than before, and Space Art was cutting deeper. The sense of folding distance now moved my body the instant the thought formed.

Power I'd once forced into alignment was starting to turn as if it had been built that way from the start.

"Boss."

Noise spoke.

"Not far to the wall."

Before the words finished, the sound changed.

Booom.

A dull roar rolled in from far away. Artillery layered over it next—lines of heat tearing the air, something being ground apart, blue light bursting along the top of the wall.

The view opened.

Noise sucked in a breath.

"……They're still holding."

The wall hadn't fallen.

I'd assumed the lower sections were already ripped and broken. The road this far had been that kind of ruin—there was no way the wall itself was intact.

But the upper batteries were still standing.

Emplacements ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lined the crown of the wall and spat fire without rest. Lasers, shells, light-rounds without names poured out ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠beyond the barrier. Under a sky drowned in smoke, every time those batteries coughed their low, heavy reports, the whole wall rang like one enormous war machine.

A landscape nothing like the silence below.

Noise's pace quickened. The two wolf-types picked up speed with him. Geomeunburi advanced without a word.

Hope, it seemed, was in sight.

KRAAANG!

Of course that hope didn't last.

A massive blast tore out of the wall's lower section. Track scraping ground, drone wings shuddering, thick metal being crushed head-on—the sounds all crashed in at once.

"Everyone down!"

Geomeunburi shouted.

We dropped almost as one.

Through the gap between a collapsed cargo container and an overturned hauler, the battlefield came into view.

Noise checked his cracked terminal against the field.

"Direction's right."

His face hardened.

"The entrance I remember is inside that loading zone."

And that was where the fighting was.

Three tanks sat jammed forward like a wedge. They weren't clean on the outside either—patched plate everywhere, barrels reattached after being torn free. Dozens of drones hung above and to either side of them. Some had their shells stripped; one wing on another rattled hard enough to shake the frame. Even lurching for balance, they kept pouring out red beams of light.

Noise lowered the broken terminal.

"……Those are Wall Consortium people, aren't they."

Geomeunburi clicked his tongue short.

"Ground forces still left, then."

"I thought the lower wall was finished ages ago. Didn't expect a force that size still standing."

Then Spirit Sense snagged a presence cutting through the barrage.

At first I took it for Wall Consortium troops—but the movement was wrong. The figure was forcing a path through the storm of rounds and beams, obsessively targeting the joints of that massive bulk—arms, knees, the gaps between armor plates.

Metal was driven into him from head to heel. Black implants crawled from the nape of his neck to his shoulders; both arms were closer to machine than flesh. Blue luminous lines set along his spine flashed short every time he moved.

In his hands he held a long-bladed weapon—something like a thin plate of armor torn free and ground into an edge.

The man never met it head-on.

He rolled, slid, kicked off the side of a ruined tank and sprang, stabbing the same point again and again. Each strike was shallow. All of them hit the same place. The scratches were getting deeper, one by one.

"……The Red Pine Guildmaster."

Noise growled at the black implant buried in the man's nape.

Geomeunburi drew a short breath.

"What's that old bastard doing out here? He was supposed to be rotting in his district."

Only then did the thing the Red Pine Guildmaster was fighting come fully into view.

Size hit first.

Head, torso, arms and legs—you could call the layout humanoid. The proportions were anything but. Shoulders and arms swelled so large ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠they registered before the trunk did, thick armor plates forced into place over living flesh. Not so much wearing plate as metal masses stuck to a living body and moving with it.

What it held looked like a mace.

Thud.

One step, and the ground rang.

It was definitely slow.

But if it landed even a single hit, there would be no after—the pressure of that mass was that absolute.

Dudududu!

Drone fire raked its upper body. Sparks flew. It did not stop.

An overwhelming bulk of mass swung sideways.

KWAANG!

The main gun of the lead tank crumpled where it was. The barrel folded sideways; the front of the hull heaved and settled at a slant. The blow was so brutal that a few drones caught in the shockwave flipped midair and fell.

Noise said grimly,

"Damn it…… Irregular. Knight-class."

The Red Pine Guildmaster drove in again.

The implants in his body flared blue. In the instant before the giant mass of metal came back around, he kicked a tank wreck and vaulted. The long weapon scraped between the shoulder plates.

Krrrk-krrrk!

Shallow.

More a scratch than a wound.

But the Red Pine Guildmaster still didn't yield ground. The moment he landed he rolled sideways, and the metal mass that followed smashed the spot where he'd been.

KWAANG!

The ground caved.

Noise clenched his teeth.

"Looking like that, he won't last a few minutes."

"Ugly as hell."

The sneer didn't hold.

"If that thing goes down, the loading-zone entrance won't hold either."

"Of course the bastard has to throw a fit right there."

Geomeunburi asked short,

"Route back?"

Noise checked the terminal. A ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠few faint lines wavered across the cracked screen.

"Even going back, we have to skim the rear of that battlefield. And if my memory's right, the entrance is inside that loading zone."

"Hah. Another way?"

"There's one more on the map. Can't confirm if it's blocked or open."

Geomeunburi pressed a hand to his forehead.

Tank and drone fire poured down again.

KWAANG! KWAANG! KWAANG!

The giant's body vanished into the smoke of the blasts. The next moment its shadow came straight out of it. Sparks danced over the armor plates; melted metal hit the ground.

It was still standing.

Over the roar of the field, Noise raised his voice.

"Going through that is just dying like a dog."

Geomeunburi looked from the Knight-class bulk to the loading zone behind it.

"Haa."

Then a different sound came from above the wall.

Thud.

Not artillery.

Something falling over the wall and coming down.

Not one.

Thud. Thud-thud.

KRRACK!

Black shapes rode the structure down from above. Unlike the Infected that crawled, these dropped, landed on two feet, and straightened their spines at once.

They stood bipedal.

They had arms and legs.

Only the lengths and joints were wrong—arbitrary.

One had arms so long the fingertips nearly dragged the ground. Another wore bone-like spikes rising from its shoulders like a crown. A third had a smooth black plate fixed where a face should be, blue light flickering from inside it.

Noise's breath stopped.

"Irregulars…… Variants."

Then a clamor rose from the Wall Consortium line.

"Left! Left! They're through!"

"Use the drones—no, watch the rear! Fuck!"

Whether they heard the order or not, some of the drones swung around.

The Variant at the front, which had been looking up, dropped low—and jumped.

In the next breath, two drones folded in half midair. A long arm swept; a black gouge scored a plated flank.

Another Variant drove its hands into a structure under the wall and hauled itself into the field as if climbing its own body.

The line collapsed in an instant.

The tanks were already strained just holding the Knight-class. When Variants punched in from the side, the Wall Consortium fire net split in two. Focus shattered; the drone wing scattered with it.

"The defensive line—!"

Noise gritted his teeth.

"Damn it."

Then a sharp sensation caught on Spirit Sense.

In the middle of the field, the Variant with the black plate for a face turned its head.

It looked exactly this way.

The wolf-types snarled as one.

Noise swallowed.

"Boss."

"I see it."

Inside the black plate, blue light flashed once more.

The next instant, that thing's hand pointed toward us.

Geomeunburi twisted his mouth.

"Move!!"