CHAPTER TWO - A Parent's Stand
Wave awoke buried with rubble and splintered wood pressed down on him. With a frantic gasp, he dug himself free, collapsing onto the cold ground. His lungs burned, scraping in hot breaths of dust-filled air.
He looked towards his home. Monsters in shapes he couldn't identify swarmed over it. Their cries shredded through the night.
He remembered his father's words, the feel of the needle piercing his skin. A dry sob ripped from his throat. He slapped a hand over his mouth, silencing it. Grief was a luxury for the safe.
A cold stone settled in his heart, but his father's last command was louder: Run. He steadied himself, his hand stretching to the knob sticking out of the door above him
He strained his ears, listening for the slightest crack of a twig, the faintest rustle of leaves. He picked up on one or two heavy steps, but it soon went silent.
He couldn't cower here forever. He sucked in a deep, ragged breath. It tasted of cellar damp, dust, and the distant, acrid sting of smoke. His legs trembled. Move. He willed his legs as he hauled himself out and spun, scanning left, then right.
There were no signs of those monsters, except for the depressions their legs made on the ground. The ground was crushed into deep, unmistakable prints. Wave didn't have time to ponder these thoughts. His father's instructions were clear: to survive, you have to run…and keep running.
So he did. He pushed his legs harder, taking huge, stumbling strides that threatened to spill him, and broke into a desperate sprint.
The memory of warm lights and safe smiles lingered, a ghost in his mind. But to turn back was death. He knew it, and more so did his body.
The world ahead bled of colour, swallowed by the creeping darkness beneath the forest canopy.
He braced himself and plunged into the darkness. Branches whipped at his face, the familiar path now a tunnel of unseen threats leading away from everything he knew.
Wave could tell. The overwhelming distance between him and that being. He had seen it, a pale figure standing amidst the flames, untouched, as the monsters bowed. Its eyes had found him, glowing like dying embers, before turning away as if he were nothing.
Location - The Forest
By the time Wave reached the forest's embrace, the raging fire that bore its fangs behind him caught his gaze, making his steps pause. The rain was gone, or maybe he couldn't hear it anymore. The crackling of his home pierced into his very being. It wasn't a nightmare. He couldn't return there ever again. That thought rang through his mind
The air felt thin, and each breath was scraped raw down his throat. Something bitter clung to his tongue. Smoke. Burnt wood. And the nauseous smell of the Xions drawing closer to him.
Tears formed under his eyes, but Wave forced his eyes open. He wouldn't turn away. He would implant this scene into himself and will forever remember it. The night he lost everything.
What remained of his house stood crooked in the distance, blackened beams jutting out like broken bones. The walls were gone. The roof had collapsed inward. Embers glowed faintly beneath the rubble, pulsing like dying stars.
A shadow moved beyond the smoke. Wave's breath hitched. His fingers dug into the dirt as instinct screamed at him to run, to hide, to disappear into the forest. Even from this distance, Wave felt it, an overwhelming pressure that froze the scream in his throat.
For a heartbeat, Wave saw eyes that glowed like dying embers in the gloom. Then the figure turned away, disinterested, as the Xions closed rank around him.
Wave could tell. The overwhelming distance between him and that being. But anger clouded his reason. Wave tried to move, but his legs wouldn't pull him to the man. He slammed his hands on the cold ground, pained by his weak self.
'That thing. That thing had to be why they're dead.' It was right there…but he couldn't even move. He gritted his teeth in rage. "Run…" Those words snapped him back. Yes, he had to run. One day, he would be strong enough to take that head.
But for now, he'll run and hide. Just as his parents told him to. This loss, Wave ingrained it in himself. He picked himself up and, with a final look at the blackened house, he turned into the forest's darkness.
The distinct screams of the creatures echoed behind him. Taking a brief look behind him, he noticed the shuffling bushes and small but noticeable tremor of the forest. The woods had fallen deathly silent, amplifying every snap of a twig behind him, each one closer than the last.
Within his grasp was the tattered book in a leather-backed book that his father gave to him. The last thing he had of his parents. "Run," His father's voice echoed through his mind, cutting through his wandering thoughts.
He kicked his legs forward, the next harder than the last, creating a semblance of distance between him and the swarm behind.
He had lost count of how long he'd been running, but he knew that he couldn't anymore. His thighs burned with each step, a negotiation with muscles that threatened to seize.
He took short and strained breaths as his heart skipped in its beats. He had never run as long nor as intensely as this ever before. He couldn't tell what moved him…his parents' hope? His stubbornness to die? His motive for revenge?
They blurred together until only one thought remained, pounding in time with his footsteps: I have to survive.
They closed the distance the moment his pace faltered. Their roars have been an unwelcome guest for Wave through this race for his life, and now…they ushered in his closing ending. Wave tripped on a tree's elevated roots, his momentum crashing him through the foliage and grasses.
Intense pain shot through from his legs and hands all the way to his brain. He sucked in a sharp breath, gritting his teeth against the pain. The pain was fierce, but he knew what falling meant now.
So with haste, he took to his legs, ready to start sprinting…but his legs gave way, plummeting him back to the moist world below him.
They had reached their breaking point. His legs had gone from burning to numb. They were dead weights refusing his commands,…and right now, it was as clear as day.
One of those hideous monsters lunged out of the darkened woods, its mouth widened, as segmented teeth like a saw pulled closer to Wave.
As the creature lunged, Wave slammed his hands into the soil. A raw, wordless scream tore from his throat, but was lost to the darkened world.
He looked up at the cold moon. A raw, broken scream of rage and utter loss ripped from his throat. "It wasn't fair!" He closed his eyes as death's scythe felt closer to his neck.
That outcome wasn't the worst of fates. A smile bloomed on his face.
He opened his eyes, and in his confusion, he saw a sight he'd never forget. The monster's head separated from the rest of its body with a swift and beautiful curve of her sword. She landed next to him, the corpse of the monster collapsing under its weight as the severed head rolled next to him.
"Got you." She sighed deeply and turned, slashing her sword through the air, the monster's blood flying off its tempered steel. She jumped into the fray of monsters, each swing of hers mastered and calculated, ending the lives of the monsters in quick succession.
"Min, Fin. Clear the rear!" Her voice was a blade itself, cool, sharp, and utterly in command.
From the darkness to Wave's left, the night erupted with the staccato bark of gunfire and the shouts of other fighters. The woman didn't look back. She became a whirlwind of motion, her sword carving silver arcs through the swarm. Each movement was efficient, lethal, a brutal poetry Wave could barely process.
Her sword, catching a sliver of moonlight, carved a silver arc through the air. The largest Xion simply parted, its two halves toppling sideways. After taking care of the immediate swarm, she turned her direction to Wave.
Before the corpse hit the ground, she was already turning. Her gaze found him and locked on. He saw not just pity, but a sharp, assessing look, her silhouette backlit by the distant fire.
She lingered on him, and for a fleeting moment, her stern expression softened into something unreadable. With a slight hesitation, she ran her fingers, surprisingly soft over his dirtied face, wiping away a smear of ash. Then just as quickly, the mask of professionalism returned.
Then his vision swam. She flashed next to him, breaking his fall. As his vision blurred, a final thought, warmth, as strong arms caught him, and the world dissolved into static.
Her voice, cool and professional, was the last thing he heard: "Target secure. Begin retreat."