RUN 2

A long, single-file corridor. Three pathfinders tore down it in a frantic, mindless sprint.

Behind them, thousands of Grotesques closed in, shrieking their twisted wails — a tide made of writhing flesh. As if answering the sudden chase, emergency lights flashed crimson all across the ruins, and a grotesque siren howled loud enough to split eardrums.

This corridor, the one Restman had blown apart with an anti-tank shell, may well have been a core facility of Gamma-7 in its own right. Now that it had sustained catastrophic damage, some dormant system had apparently decided to wake up.

But there was no time to worry about that. The three people sprinting for their lives at this very moment had far more urgent business.

"Hah— heah!"

Akina, who had somehow ended up at the very front, gasped out dry breaths. She was already short in stature with a narrow stride, and lugging that enormous backpack on top of it was pure torment.

"Uwah!"

The instant she stumbled over something mid-flight, a massive steel arm swept around her waist and caught her.

Ash, closing in without missing a beat.

"Give it here!"

He more or less wrestled the backpack off Akina's shoulders, slung it carelessly over his own, then abruptly swung his blade upward.

A Grotesque that had been crawling along the ceiling and dropping down was cleaved clean in two.

"Can you still run?"

"I have to!"

Meanwhile —

BANG!KRA-BOOM!

Ifrit's hand cannon spat fire without pause. The heads of the two or three nearest Grotesques burst into airborne mist of blood.

"Reload! Cover me!"

She barked out a contradictory jumble of words. But Ash read her perfectly, hurling his body forward with a sweep of his steel blade — cutting down one climbing the left wall, then skewering the gaping maw of another lunging from the right.

A single instant of flashing light.

"Now!"

All three surged forward again, desperate to stretch the gap, however briefly.

How long had they run? Far ahead, a door of familiar shape came into view — the very stone gate Akina had opened through her Deep Dive before.

Beyond that door, the passages forked many times over, so the Grotesques chasing them would be forced to scatter to a degree. The situation would surely improve from here on out.

That was what they thought.

Clack! Grind-grind-grind! Clunk!

An unnerving mechanical shriek echoed from the walls and ceiling around the stone gate — even from the floor itself. Then, with a heavy thunk, something emerged.

Automated turrets.

At the same moment, a guidance announcement began to play.

It was something unmistakably different from the language used in Sanctum. But Ash had installed the universal language pack, and could follow it well enough. The problem was that the content was anything but good news.

A dozen-odd turrets fanned out their crimson laser targeting lines in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠unison.

"Sentinels? Oh, you have got to be kidding me — we're screwed from both ends now!"

Ifrit spat a stream of profanity and threw herself into motion. As she did, the plating on her thighs slid open and ejected several squat disks.

The disks bounced every which way, spewing thick, hazy smoke along with blinding strobes of light. In an instant, the choking smoke filled the entire corridor.

The laser targeting lines from the turrets scattered and scattered again as they tangled with the drifting smoke particles. Grotesque wails and Sentinel machine-clatter, the guidance announcement and the sirens — it was pandemonium incarnate.

"I'll take below! Princess takes above!"

This time it was Ash who barked out a contradictory jumble of words. But just as she had read him, Ifrit understood it perfectly.

"Okay!"

BANG!

The Bloody Heart Mk.7 roared. A turret jutting from the ceiling caved inward, badly dented.

Ash charged straight through his own momentum and scattered blade-strokes across the nearest turrets. One that hadn't even fully revealed itself was simply lopped off.

Having dealt with the closest turrets, they ducked into the smoke and hid for a moment.

The turrets activated. And they prioritized the Grotesques — still shrieking their way closer even now — over the light-scattering smoke.

THUNK! THUNK! THUNK! THUNK! THUNK!

The wave of flesh cracked. Armor-piercing rounds from the Sentinel turrets tore into the Grotesque horde, punching hole after gaping hole through their formation.

The Grotesques shrieked louder still.

"Now!"

Ifrit, fishing a couple of disks from her thigh and hurling them in the direction they meant to go, shouted — and kicked off through the smoke. Ash, still holding Akina, followed right behind her.

With the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Grotesques, their wails, and the crack of the Sentinel turrets' gunfire at their backs, the pathfinders bolted once more.

It was the final sprint for the stone gate. Every now and then a few turrets swung their heads their way, but each time, Ash's blade flashed or Ifrit's gun spat fire.

And then, the moment they reached the stone gate at last —

"Damn it!"

The massive gate was closing fast. No doubt the Sentinels had triggered a lockdown.

Ash, Akina cradled in his arms, exploded forward in a burst of speed, invoking the subtleties of Flying Dragon's Earth-Shrink. Ifrit right behind him flung herself into a headlong slide, and only barely slipped through.

KOOM.

The colossal stone gate sealed shut, shutting out everything.

"Waah — I seriously thought we were gonna die!"

Having confirmed the closed door, Ifrit apparently couldn't take another step — she collapsed where she stood, gulping down ragged breaths.

After a moment to catch her wind, she plucked the drone off her right shoulder and lifted it up.

"...Hehe! Ta-daa~! Your girl Ifrit is alive and reporting in! Bet that scared you all, huh? Scared me too, for the record! Aaah, I really, genuinely thought I was a goner that time~..."

While Ifrit bantered with her viewers, Ash gently set Akina down.

"Are you hurt anywhere?"

Her face was pale and both legs were trembling, but Akina nodded composedly.

"I'm alright."

"Thank goodness."

"But what on earth is going on? Weren't you supposed to be going after Restman?"

"...It would take a while to explain. For now—"

KOOM!

Ash, mid-sentence. Akina, catching her breath. Ifrit, mid-broadcast. All of them froze at once and turned to stare at the stone gate.

A moment later.

KOOM!

The dull thunder sounded again. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠The Grotesques were pounding on the door.

The blows grew more violent with every impact, and each time, the stone gate shuddered with a faint tremor. It would have been fine if it stopped there — but Ash's eyes could see it. Hairline fractures, spidering through that colossal slab of stone.

"...We need to get out of this place. Now."

"Agreed."

Ifrit said it as she pushed herself up off the ground.

"Weren't you two mapping? Then don't you know the way around?"

At her words, Akina pulled out her data pad and checked the stored data. The girl scanned the glowing hologram for a moment, and her eyes lit up.

"I found the shortest route."

Ash, readjusting the backpack on his shoulders, nodded.

"Lead the way, please."

And so the three pathfinders began their escape — leaving the crumbling stone gate behind them.

The fighting never stopped.

The sirens and the crimson warning lights seemed to have roused every threat in Gamma-7. Grotesques sprouted up one after another from the blood-red ruins all around, and every so often a Sentinel turret spun up and rained down armor-piercing shells.

But the three of them slipped past each threat by pooling everything they had. Ash, at the vanguard, carved open the path; Ifrit covered the rear and flanks. Akina, running in their midst, cross-referenced terrain against her maps without pause, charting the optimal route and guiding them all.

Intermittent engagements and breathless sprints, over and over — until, at some point, all three pathfinders stopped at once.

"Th-this— this can't be happening...!"

A door.

To be precise, a steel door — and more precisely still, a sealed blast shutter.

The problem was that it stood squarely in the middle of the shortest route Akina was guiding them along. Apparently, the corridor the Sentinels had locked down wasn't limited to that stone gate.

Ifrit stared up at the blast shutter, face frozen in despair, then shook her head quickly and whirled around.

"No time for this. We're going back, now."

Ash blocked her path.

"Too late."

"Too late my ass! We've still got plenty of room!"

Despite her protest, he only shook his head. Ash had been stretching his qi-sense to its absolute limit with every faculty he possessed, ever since the escape began. That was how he knew.

"The Grotesques that broke through the stone gate are nearly upon us. If we turn back the way we came, we will meet them head-on. Without question."

"So what! You're saying we just die here?!"

"And why would we die?"

Ash's gaze turned to Akina.

"We do happen to have a Technomancer with us, do we not?"

"...What?"

Ifrit looked back and forth between Akina and Ash, then threw her voice up in sheer disbelief.

"Don't tell me — you're talking about a Deep Dive?"

Ash nodded silently.

"I am."

"Hold on, wait. So you're saying — while the shrimp opens that door with a Deep Dive, the two of us buy her time? That's the plan? Right now?"

"Precisely."

Ifrit opened her mouth to scream, then shut it and dragged a hand down her jaw. Even to her own mind, it beat blindly hunting for another route.

No — it was the only way. There was no guarantee the blast shutter had dropped in this one spot alone. If every passage around them was sealed, that meant, in the end, they'd have to break through somewhere no matter what.

With the abilities of Akina the Technomancer.

Ash stepped toward her.

"Miss Akina."

Then he lowered himself to one knee, bringing his eyes level with hers.

"Can you do it?"

A calm, quiet question. As casual as asking whether she'd eaten.

Akina bit down on her lower lip until it nearly bled. Whether that exquisite sting served as the trigger or not, the tremor in her pale, wide eyes slowly settled. And a moment later —

Akina's eyes blazed brighter than they ever had.

"Of course I can. I'm a genius!"

"...Wow. We're actually doing this? Have you lost your minds?"

That was what Ifrit said. Then she flashed a grin, her heart-shaped eyes glowing brilliant pink.

"Screw it, this'll be fun. Let's do it right now!"

Ifrit checked her remaining ammunition. Ash set down the backpack. Akina drew a cable from within her coat, jacked it into the port at the nape of her neck, and glanced back at Ash and Ifrit one last time.

"Mister. Unnie. I'm counting on you."

Ash nodded.

"They will not lay a single hair upon your head."

The quiet certainty in his answer drew a soft smile from Akina. She exhaled a deep breath and began the Deep Dive. A wispy blue aura wrapped gently around her body, and her small frame lifted into the air.

— KYAAAAAH!

The timing could not have been worse. From the darkness at the far end of the corridor, Grotesques began to emerge, shrieking.

Ash stepped forward.

"I'll take the vanguard. The rear is yours."

"Same as always, then?"

"Correct. Same as always."

"Good. Let's have ourselves a damn party! Oh — mind if I stream this?"

KYAAAAAAAH!!

The bloated monstrosities packed the corridor wall to wall and surged forward all at once.

Strangely enough, the sight called to mind a scene from long ago — the day he had stormed the grand bastion of the Demonic Cult alone, and come face to face with hundreds of demon-men. It had looked exactly like this.

'Though today, we are three.'

A deranged idol and a girl Technomancer. And a humanoid swordsman, on top of that.

Had Ash still possessed a mouth, he might have chuckled at this very moment.

And then, in an instant —

His teal optical sensors flared with a cold that bordered on the uncanny.

"I come."

Low, yet ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠reverberating as if to shake the entire ruin, the electronic voice of his voice module rolled out. Ash, advancing on the charging Grotesques, squared his blade true.

"I COME!"

His stride — which had looked almost leisurely — became, in a flash, a streak of black light hurtling headlong into the oncoming wave of death.