The sedans stop a block away. We exit our vehicles, stuffing our swords into our belts. Well, except for Jack, who decided to tag along as an ‘entry specialist’. We walk as a group, and it’s not more than a block later we find the Compound, a soild white-brick building no more than three stories tall and surrounded by a fence. It had no advertising signs nor did it have other features that would identify its purpose, and windows were scarce. “Let’s take a wide berth and go for the back.”
“Sounds good enough, Jack.” We keep a street between us and the compound until we find a conspicuous-looking back door, though a fence is in between us and it. “You have wire cutters, don’t you?”
He pulls them from his trenchcoat wordlessly and gets to work. It takes all of two minutes, but the tension stretches out the time as we hoped nobody spotted us yet. We go through the hole in a line, crowding around the door as Jack examines it. “This one looks like it might actually be a tough customer. This could take a while...”
“Better step on it, then.” The better part of another whole minute passes by as Jack pulls out different picks, trying them out and eventually turning the lock with an authoritative snap. “Jack, once you open that door, you need to go back to the car.”
“Right, right, you’ve got a point...” Jack sighed, as he opened the door ajar and stepped back, heading for the escape vehicles as the rest of us steel ourselves, and I remind myself of one important fact.
Tonight was the big night. Tonight, all this would end.
I throw the door open as I step in, the recruits filing in behind me. We’re greeted by a hallway full of different doors. I wince at the idea of dividing my forces’ strength, but we were on the home stretch, and I simply couldn’t give Varlagos an opening to escape. “Fan out and search every single room. We can’t let him slip out of our hands.”
As I make for the nearest door, I find myself stepping into what appears to be a mixing ‘lab’ of some sort. I couldn’t tell what most of the machines here did, but there were clearly several different containers that wouldn’t look out of place in a chemistry lab, alongside different vats which I assume were used to hold substances at varying phrases of preparation. I can also see what appears to be burners and pots along one section of the wall, and multiple clear tables adorned solely by scales. The room was populated by several people in gas masks and ponchos, with medical gloves on, as to emulate a hazmat suit, who all turned to face me as I entered.
I waste no time moving in, drawing my katana and slashing at them in whatever way presented itself most naturally.
Wait, why am I killing them?
The thought comes abruptly into my mind, but vanishes almost as soon as it presents itself. I’m fast, but not fast enough to take them all down before one finally rounds the corner and away. Two others follow in his footsteps as I hear yells from around the corner, before a man in a black suit rounds it, wielding a metal bat. He steps forward, swinging his bat at my head. I block it with the strong of my sword before returning with a chop into his shoulder, shearing through his clavicle as he yells. I kick him in the stomach, sending him on his back as he drops his bat. He scrambles away towards the wall, leaving a blood trail on the concrete in his wake.
With him out of the way, I step out from between the counters, turning to see another guard run towards me with an axe, and off to the right I see a man in a white suit wielding a sabre. I hear the door behind me slam open as the guard swings his axe, bringing its weight downward. I beat it aside with my sword as it sails through the air, throwing him off-balance as I stab through his throat, pressing deep into the thrust. I see a recruit run at the man in white; the man threw some sort of black line at him and used it to trip him over after deflecting his strike. I hear the guard choke on my sword before I pull it out, just in time to turn and see the man in white cut across the recruit’s back with a flick of his wrist. The recruit cries out in turn, but I don’t see his legs recoil in pain like they should.
Looking closer, the man in the white suit is actually Varlagos, who tilts his head as he recognizes me. “Why, hello there, March… if that even is your real name. Who are you really working for?”
While I’m sure Varlagos is full of himself, he’s clearly not an idiot. I won’t waste breath on an answer he already knows. “Why are you trying to undermine the Street Samurai?”
“They’re in the way of my goal. They’ve robbed me of a significant amount of trial patients.” My subconscious lets out a deep shiver.
“So you view civilians as your playthings? Torture them with whatever eldritch shit you’re cooking up in here and watch them writhe for your fucking amusement!?”
“View it however you like, but I won’t be letting petty
morals
obstruct me from advancing the human race. Plenty will suffer, but hundreds of times that many will reap the benefits once I’m done.”
“You’re building a fantasy on the corpses of Halych’s citizenry, but more importantly you decided to fuck around,” I flourish my katana with a flick of my wrist, bringing it high. “And today you get to find out.”
He chuckles before performing a flourish of his own, bringing his sword about in front of him. “Guess it’s time to shut up and dance, then.”
Without speaking further, we circle each other for but a second before I step in, cutting towards his neck. He blocks it and winds his hilt upward, angling his point at my head for a covered thrust. I duck my head sharply, the point slicing into my forehead painfully as I pull my sword from the bind, raking the point across his forearm and stepping back, barely blocking an afterblow to cover my retreat.
He touches his now-wounded forearm, getting blood on his hand. It’s hard to tell, but his blood might be darker than I expected. I catch him flinching at the touch with a grunt, but his grip holds steady. I feel something warm begin to leak down my forehead; the blood would likely blind one of my eyes soon.
My usual aggression isn’t going to work here.
“Not bad.”
I shift stances, setting my point ahead of me. He darts forward, swinging with the back edge of his sabre in an effort to beat my point aside, rotating his wrist into a follow-up cut aimed for my neck. I step back with haste as I feel a breeze hit my throat, another spark of alarm crossing my mind as I wheel my sword around and make a sharp downward cut for his forearm; he sweeps his blade across himself, deflecting my blade as he retreats in turn.
He rests his sword’s back edge on his shoulder, smiling. “I can’t remember the last time I had a real swordfight, but I can’t be toying around any longer.” Pointing his left hand at me, he fires a black strand out of his palm at me. I beat aside the strand and slice at it, but it simply moves instead of being severed.
Seems he’s high on his own supply after all.
“Looks to me like you’re just in it for personal power.”
He doesn’t respond, instead going for an upward cut towards my left side. My katana recoils slightly in my hand as I block it, but he follows up by firing his strand towards my upper chest. I twitch my body away, tucking my head down to cover my neck.
Turns out, he wasn’t aiming for my throat.
A wicked, painful barb lodges itself into my shoulder and he yanks with his left arm in a snapping motion, pulling me off-balance. I’m sent careening towards him as he cocks back his arm, making a powerful downward cut that could’ve taken my head off had I not caught the strike against my own blade, fighting the sensation of the barb digging around in my shoulder, every movement causing pain. We draw in close as I quickly snake my arm around his sword arm, pulling my right hand up despite the barb digging around in my flesh, despite the pain, and bring the sword’s endcap down onto his shoulder, aiming for his clavicle in defiance of the pain making my arm shake-and how the blood leaking from my forehead now blinds my left eye.
Varlagos lets out a grunt, flinching sharply from the impact and growling as he tries to pull his sword arm free, but like an anaconda my left arm refused to uncoil from its prey. I get a good look at his blackened eyes as I grit my teeth, raising my sword so I can strike again, but I’m cut off by Varlagos pulling back on both arms as he rams his skull into my own. My focus slips, and my left arm uncoils as I stumble back. The pain in my forehead is
astonishing
, and my vision is blurred for a few dangerous seconds as I try to regain my focus, but I’m interrupted by the barb tearing out of my shoulder.
As my vision clears, I see Varlagos didn’t fare much better. He’s slowly backpedaling as he clutches his forehead with his left hand, before shaking it violently. An inhale, and an exhale as I gather myself, brushing the blood from my eye with my sleeve and working up the courage to hold my sword up high despite my shoulder protesting it.
“We’re releasing the beast!” The cry comes from the door behind Varlagos, a heavy, reinforced door that’s now slowly opening.
Varlagos works up a smile. “Finally! I know you haven’t exactly shown confidence in the quality or worth of my work, but now you’ll be getting a live demonstration from our greatest work yet.” I see a recruit come out of the door behind me, stepping forward and looking between Varlagos and the reinforced door across from us. I step forward to go after Varlagos, but pause as the reinforced door slams open, revealing a humanoid figure in orange pants. He’s got bulging muscles adorned with equally bulging-and black-veins, and a misshapen mouth below a pair of solid black eyes. A curved blade points forward from his left forearm, and his right hand’s fingers are tipped with curved claws, like shark’s teeth. The recruit takes two steps back as soon as he sees the freak of nature. My stomach turns as I realize that this thing was real, and that Teneb was far more powerful than I’d previously thought.
Varlagos exits via the door now next to him, and the mutant runs at me, swinging its blade in a wild arc. I parry it, as the blade audibly tears through the wind, hopping back. “Go get that bastard! I’ll deal with this
creature
.” The recruit nods wordlessly, running around the creature and through the door. It keeps its focus on me, as I watch its eyes stalk me like a tiger. It makes another wild swing for my neck and I duck it, darting forward to stab its face. It beats the blade aside with its right hand, swinging its own blade back around towards my thigh. I block it, and feel a soft vibration in my sword from the sheer impact before he swings the back of his right hand at my head. I feel a jolt of panic at this realization, jerking my head back-but it still lands, sending me stumbling to the wall in yet another episode of disorientation.
I regain my focus as I force myself to center, my tail splitting into four as the creature picks up speed. I step left as it makes a thrust, its blade digging itself into the concrete behind me. I duck its follow-up swing, my tails slapping into its wrist to further divert its path, while cutting deep into its stomach before stepping back away. Solid black blood splurges from its wound as the creature lets out an inhuman snarl, turning towards me and pulling its blade free from the wall it was embedded into. It accelerates its tempo, swinging its arm in a flurry as I parry and sidestep each attack. I feel a subtle anxiety as I search for any opening possible, until I notice it start to slow down as fatigue seems to catch up with it.
I finally find my opening after what feels like the better part of a dozen attacks, gripping the spine of my sword with my offhand as I deflect a lunging overhead that leaves a small crack in the concrete floor before rotating my entire body into a slice, running as much of the edge as I can against its knee. I quickly reorient myself, tensed for a counterattack as I find none, its knee collapsing as it falls over, struggling to upright itself on account of the overly long blade on its left arm. I almost hold my breath as I hold my sword high, stepping back in, positioning myself with care and swinging down on its neck with as much force as I could, hoping the pain and injury don’t make me miss or lose my edge alignment, knowing that either could very well get me killed.
The stroke lands right where it needs to, spraying black blood all over the concrete. The creature’s head rolls off, its face frozen in pain as its body freezes before collapsing on the floor. I wipe my forehead of blood with my other sleeve, taking in a moment to witness all the bodies and blood on the floor. I feel worn thin right now, but there’s no time to rest and no time to bleed; I need to make sure Varlagos is dead.
I step through the door and up the stairs, to find the recruit that went up the stairs earlier being held at swordpoint by Varlagos, having put the now visibly distressed recruit between us. The first thing that went over Varlagos’s face was a spark of panic as he realized that there was solid black blood on my sword, but he’s quick to reacquire his composure. “I can see you had some fun with my greatest work… now, I know you’re determined to kill me, but how determined are you, really? I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what happens to this boy if you step closer.”
“Roping him into this hoping to save yourself from me? Can’t take fighting me head to head, is that it?” I let off a half-smirk, hoping to lure him in. “And here I thought you’d have some sort of bastard’s honor.”
“You want to talk to me about honor when you fight for those that would swindle adolescent boys into selling their lives so cheaply-and for what? So you can deny
my
good work purchase?”
I can’t help but laugh, but nothing feels funny about our current situation. “I won’t say you’re entirely wrong, but at least we give them something in return.”
“Hmmhp. Back to the question at hand...” Varlagos readjusts the edge of his sabre as it rests upon the recruit’s neck. “Back when we met at the ballroom, I knew I saw something
different
in your eyes. I saw a fire, an energy, a sort of determination that you don’t get to see often, but how far does that determination of yours stretch?”
I let my eyes wander the room, from the desk to the wall clock to the chairs lined on one side, trying to search for anything I could leverage to somehow solve this without getting the recruit killed or letting Varlagos escape, but I wasn’t exactly a superhero; I didn’t have a magic plan or any sort of massive power that could undo this situation perfectly. My sights then settled back on the recruit. Some part of my subconscious protested the idea, but its inevitability drew closer with each second.
No. This is exactly what Varlagos is aiming for; he’s simply stalling for time so he can get reinforcements to save him.
He thinks that forcing a moral dilemma upon me is going to save him. Well, given how some part of me deep down inside refuses the idea, he’s probably almost right, but I’ve been worn so fucking thin by this little crusade that Sigmund’s sent me on that I’m willing to set aside those objections just to end the bastard.
After all, I’ve cut down people that actually mattered to me before. The boy’s nothing more than a blade of grass to me.
...Right?
I focus, setting my eyes on Varlagos, and rifling my stance, point ready. As I hold that focus, I feel my tail split into nine. As my tails cock back behind me, I inhale and exhale. I give myself one more reminder, under my breath. “He’s nothing more than a blade of grass to me.” Finally ready, I dart forward, my tails whipping violently and warping the wind around me, accelerating me even further as I lance both the recruit and Varlagos, moving with such force that I drive him all the way to the wall behind him. He drops his sabre with a clatter, as both their faces show surprise in equal measure at what I’ve done. I rip my sword out, flicking the excess blood from it as I watch both of them slump over, the recruit falling on his side.
“I’m willing to die for what I believe in…” Varlagos leans against the wall, slowly sliding down. “Can you say the same?” After Varlagos croaks out his last words, he falls over and onto the floor. I wipe my katana and see it back into its scabbard. My tails now feel exhausted, as I let them merge back into a single entity that I can conceal under my jacket.
The door behind me opens, and I turn to find two other recruits, one of which was wounded by a streak of red across their arm. “June?”
I look back to Varlagos’s body, satisfied to see the light finally fade from his eyes. “We got the bastard. Collect our fallen and let’s go.” They nod and leave the room wordlessly as I walk over to the recruit that I killed, lifting him up and onto my shoulder as I take the stairs down. I see one recruit carrying another as I carefully navigate the bodies and pools of blood, as the rest of us make it to the cars parked a block away. We bag our dead and drive off into the night, making it back to the Dormitory before midnight.