Lost Mission

Discussion in 'ONE ON ONES IN CHARACTER' started by The Mood is Write, May 17, 2016.

  1. Brown eyes closed as the eyeshadow brush approached. She didn't need to see in a mirror to know that the usual goldenrod eye shadow was taking its usual place, and that mascara and false eyelashes would come next, followed by a little foundation to cover a bruise from 'punishment' that was already fading, and then some lipstick that would only slightly darken her naturally rosy lips.

    The brushes and smearing against her face ended, and she opened her eyes to wait for the rest. The weight on her eyelids left them half-closed as she waited for the glue to dry, and the man who kept her, Councilman Crow, slowly brushed her hair and used product to eliminate static before he tied a hairband into her hair and stripped away her nightclothes.

    She stood, arms and legs spread so he could pick her outfit, and then moved with him to allow him to dress her unimpeded. She hadn't dressed herself in several years, thanks to a 'short' break from missions.

    After a few moments, Crow stepped in front of her and cupped one breast, then sighed. "Your chest is growing too much, and you're getting too tall, but it can't be helped."

    The touch felt hot and exciting, but she knew all the man was thinking of was how tiny she had been when he first took her under wing.

    Rare curtsied as he took his hand away, and remained that way.

    "Always, my dear." He smiled and cupped her chin. He inspected her face for several moments, then smiled. "You can't help how your body grows, and you are still very beautiful."

    She gave a nod, but didn't rise. Not yet.

    "Rise. Let me check your collar, and we'll go to the Council's meeting room. You have a mission today." His already squinty eyes narrowed as his lips stretched into a closed grin.

    Another nod, and she stood up straight and lifted her chin slightly, and the man ran a hand along the grey collar for a moment.

    "Today we'll do leather." He undid the clasp, tightening the silk ribbon momentarily. She closed her eyes, and in her little shoes, she curled her toes. The collar released, and he placed a new one in its place, this one heavier.

    He tightened it, and she felt her mouth open for air as he secured the pin and then stepped away.

    It felt tight, but she could breathe still, and as long as she kept good posture, it wouldn't get in her way too badly.

    "The enchantment is in place, so if it's too tight, tell me now."

    She tugged at it a moment to get her point across.

    He watched a few moments, and his hands found their way to her neck again. The leather tightened and momentarily dug into her flesh, and then loosened.


    Rare signed 'Thank you.'

    He began to lead the way, and she snatched her gloves from a nearby vanity and pulled them onto her hands. The white constraints to her hands felt more secure than leaving them bare, since he did not leave her knife and harness in their place on her thigh.

    In the chill of the Council's chamber, her too-short skirt felt like it had been selected to display her underwear the moment a breeze picked up. She felt eyes on her: perverse gazes among the hooded and black-clad figures of the Council as one particularly round and long-winded member explained that she was expected to visit a castle and act the part of a courtesan, and she already knew the language.

    She was to find and eliminate quietly a werewolf, and if she could not eliminate it, she must report back.

    Rare kept her head bowed, and stated that she accepted the mission. A side door opened, and she curtsied deeply before she walked forward and through the door.

    The portal stood before her, the other side hidden in darkness. She took a deep breath and quickly brushed any dust from herself before she let out the breath and stepped forward, ready to perform her duty for her masters. Subtly, she raised a middle finger as she passed through, and heard Crow choke on his spit. Good!

    Between one step and the next, she arrived.
    #1 The Mood is Write, May 17, 2016
    Last edited: May 17, 2016
  2. As soon as Rare stepped through the portal, panicked screams filled the air. The world seemed to freeze for a split second as a vista of relentless devastation opened up before her as if it was a field of defiled flowers which filled her nose with the scents of death. The nauseating smells of molten metal, burnt concrete, evaporated cloth and charred flesh competed for her attention, forming a vomit-inducing assault on her nose. Around her, a forest of corpses joined hands with crippled skyscrapers to produce a horrifying picture of death painted with the brush of weapons that could cripple a city in a single shot. Empty eyes looked onto the woman with what seemed to be an accusing stare while amputated limbs pointed at her with their fingers as if they wanted the enemy to find her.

    And a monster of golden metal floated in the sky.

    That was the only possible way to describe it. It was a long, thick cylinder with wide rings, distorted hexagons and even-sided pyramids attached to its frame, a massive structure the back of which was dominated by the bulk of an engine that spewed forth blinding white plasma. It was also delightfully asymmetric with various alien letters forged into its structure which proclaimed the legitimacy of what it was doing in its own language. It was a terror within the sky, an oppressive presence that looked upon humanity with a contemptful sneer. Then it opened fire once more and the world was absorbed by the light and heat of a newborn sun that had been yanked from the sky so that it may wreck havoc on the ground instead of giving life from the heavens.

    The shot of the fusion cannon impacted quite a distance away from Rare, but she was almost blinded by it and her skin became dangerously overheated before the shockwave almost tore her clothes off. Molten scraps of tortured debries flied by her at several times the speed of sound. More than a few of them impacted the corpses of unfortunates which have been left behind and tore them into shreds as if they wanted Rare to realise her vulnerability. Her eardrums were then attacked by a loud explosion that shook her to her very core, then threatened her with shattered bones as it travelled through her body.

    In response, small flashes of light peppered the area around the metallic monster, but it did not seem to mind whatever weapon it had been bombarded with. In fact, the only response that this elicited from the horrible tyrant was the birth of yet another star within the sky that flickered only for a second before it was smashed into the ground. Then it lit up the sky and the horrific state of things was revealed as the explosion highlighted the other metal crafts that ruled the air. Though they were much smaller than the one which unleashed pandemonium on the ground, there were at least a dozen of them and they too, wielded weapons that threatened to blind the naked eye.

    Clearly, the fate of this planet was sealed with a mandate that promised its destruction.
  3. Rare stared. Never before had the Council sent her to such a doomed place, and this was not how they described her mission. Her body shook, but didn't turn, couldn't turn. She remained frozen in place, and her legs gave out under her, crumpling to the ground as the scents of the council chamber—the small solace there—disappeared as the portal behind her soundlessly closed.

    Her sensitive nose burned, and dust stung at her eyes. A high keening noise escaped her tightened throat as she sat still and shellshocked among the wreckage, keening as her insticts demanded screams and sobs, but her habit of silence stopped either.

    She was alone and trapped and the world was doomed, and she would walk it until the Council wanted her report, but what could she do again that!?

    Hiccups interrupted her keening, and the next blinding shot made her jump. She barely registered warmth on the ground under her thighs and rear.
  4. The blinding light of terror filled the skies once again and this time, it soared just a few hundred meters over Rare before it hit home. She did not even have the time to react to the sight or the explosion of sound that almost busted her eardrums as the wind picked her up and tossed her a couple dozen metres. Debris pelted her without regard for her health or her safety, some of them literally burning through her many layers of clothes while others streaked by her vulnerable limbs and shredded the expensive fabric. The heat threatened to burn off her skin, the wind wanted to sweep her away to the distant land of death, the light wanted to impale her eyes, her surroundings wanted to collapse on her... She was sure to die. In fact, it was a small miracle that she landed relatively safely, in the middle of what used to be a town square.

    Of course, her skin burned and bruised as she dragged along the heated concrete, but at least she was alive, unlike her surroundings or possibly, the entirety of the city she was in. Even the sound that she had let out had not attracted any attention and the terrors in the sky kept up their devastating bombardment. It was not obvious if the imposing ships possessed more firepower than what they unleashed, but there was the distinct feeling in the air that they were drawing this out for as long as possible in order to carve their message not only into the surface of the planet, but also into the hearts of the people who lived here.

    But the devastating explosions were soon broken up by something else. Though it was unlikely that Rare could hear the sound as she had been close to the ground zero of a small star's birthplace, unsteady steps were closing in on her. They advanced towards her with the distinct clang of metal and artificial leather on concrete and they had a certain, heavy gait to them that suggested their owner was considerably encumbered or injured. Judging by the strange rhythm of their steps, it was likely the latter, but the case soon became clearly evident as an exhausted human figure showed somewhere in Rare's periphery.

    "Fuck..." Lieutenant Miles swore under his breath as he half-dragged, half-moved his injured leg behind him. He was clad in the standard-patterned armour of the Interstellar Human Republic, not that much of the detail was visible now given that it was charred and dirtied beyond recognition. In fact, only the transparent, blue-coloured faceplate was left without any sort of damage. It was just enough to showcase the lieutenant's angular, battle-hardened face that had acquired several new wrinkles within the last couple of hours. Most of those were largely thanks to the metal monsters that filled the air the others...

    "Oh shit... What's she doing here?" The poetic question went unanswered as Miles rushed towards Rare as fast as he could in order to check on her more closely. Out of all the things, what was a civilian doing here? The city should have been evacuated a long time ago but... She looked no older than thirteen, maybe twelve. Young enough to get completely lost within the chaos.
  5. Rare couldn't see or hear as she laid in the square, body unmoving as she whined. Tears flowed freely into her hair as the face Crow so treasured twisted in pain. Her world was blackness, pain, and the stink of burning death, and though her wounds began to heal quickly, the pain lingered. She only heard the approaching steps as they came within a few feet of her, and she flinched to try to escape. She shut down her healing factor as her mind went immediately to Crow. Was he going to punish her?

    Wordless whimpers and whines escaped as she looked around in her private world of darkness as she clambered backwards, vision swimming with rings of teal and fushia and sparkling stars in the blackness as her eyes tried in vain to see past the burned retinas. Hands occupied keeping her propped up, she couldn't sign for mercy.

    Finally, she let herself collapse and lifted an arm to shield her face, though the angle she defended was off from the uniformed stranger, and her eyes were unfocused. More whines escaped the girl in the torn and burnt clothes. Only one piece of her outfit remained intact: the leather collar with its golden buckle and the gold heart-shaped lock.

    Was this another Trial? A test by Crow to thrust her further into his grasp and twisted mercy?
  6. The poor girl looked absolutely terrified and judging by her reactions, she had not the slightest idea what was happening around her, which made Miles stop his advance towards her. Intellectually, he knew that he should be going in and swooping her off her feet in order to get her as far away as possible, but practically, he was not sure he could handle the flailing that would go with that. He needed a different approach and for a moment, his mind stalled until he realised that he could just talk to her to reassure her. If she could still hear him, that is, because one of the fusion cannons had targeted this area just a few moments ago and he had seen people go completely deaf because of the explosion.

    "Don't worry, help is here," said Miles in what he hoped was a reassuring tone, but it came across far more throatily and uncertainly than he had hoped. He flinched at the rough sound of his own voice, so he imagined that the girl would react similarly to it. "Sorry... But I'm here to help you," he continued as he tried to make his tone more cheerful despite the gravity of the situation. He also moved closer to the girl to see what her reaction would be now that she could hear a familiar voice. Of course, Miles' English had a rich, local accent that made him somewhat hard to understand for someone who had grown up with the twenty-first century version of the tongue, but at least he was trying his best to speak clearly.

    "If... if you let me, I'll take you to the nearest shelter," he said after an awkward pause. "And there, we can look for your mother and father all right?" he asked and hoped that it was the right thing to say to her because she looked shaken to the core. She must be absolutely terrified out here, and as if the world wanted to drive the point home, the loud explosion of a newly born star echoed in the distance.
  7. Words. They were hard to hear, but she could vaguely tell they weren't angry-sounding. She could see faint outlines now. A bulky figure stood over her, and her training kicked in. She threw her arms up and open to him as she closed her eyes tightly. It was a near-universal sign of 'I'm scared, please save me!' because it hearkened back to a child asking to be picked up. That, combined with her ruffly ribbons and lace—or what remained—she felt certain she looked absolutely infantile. Another small whine came forth at the loud explosion, and she jumped, then cowered, head covered.

    Surely they would all die here! This was a disposal mission! This was the sort of mission a Hunter was sent on in order to be rid of them after they knew too much about Council workings! Her stomach churned as she remembered hearing about Twiggy's final mission, to a world where the local star was about to absorb it.

    Fresh tears cut through the dirt on her cheeks as she once more keened, certain she was here to die.
  8. The girl looked absolutely terrified and the soldier could not blame her at all. He may have been absolutely exhausted, but he noticed that vacant look in the eyes along with the all-too-dilated pupils, which made him swear bitterly under his breath. She must have been too close to the impact of one of those damned fusion cannons, which was no surprise given the flush of her skin on the burn marks of her elegant clothes. Honestly, he was feeling sorry for the poor thing from the bottom of his heart, especially when she started crying with that heart-wrenching sound. Miles could really not help himself and he closed the distance between them, then he swept the teenager up in what he hoped was a tight, warm embrace. Of course, most of the intent was lost because of the several layers of armour he wore.

    "It's okay, help is here," said Miles as he tried to maintain his composure regardless of the steady staccato of explosions in the background that were surely killing his comrades-in-arms or countless civilians. "You don't need to cry. We'll find a shelter and you'll be safe there, all right? And I'll find you a doctor to look at your wounds." Really, despite his throaty voice or the fact that he knew of how desperate this situation was, Miles was doing a remarkably good job sounding like everything was right in the world. Hell, he even masked the fact that he was not sure if this approach would work with a sobbing girl in the middle of a warzone, but it worked with his children so why not?

    But it did not help the guilt at the back of his mind. He knew very well that their chances of survival were abysmal. The taelrikon fusion cannons would level the surface completely and even if some of the shelters did manage to survive their wrath, there was always the screen of fighters and gunboats that would follow after. Even worse, any shuttle or ship that was launched would be literally vaporised within seconds of take-off. There would be no survivors, because there never were. And that he was lying like this to an innocent child, that he was trying to ascribe hope to a situation where there was none ate away at his conscience.
  9. Thin arms wound tight about the man's shoulders, their grip surprisingly strong as she held on, her high keening growing only slightly quieter as she shook her head. She could feel something firm against her body as the man held her. She could smell the scent of sweat and fear off him, like prey that knew it was cornered.

    They were going to die. Her and a stranger in armor, and she couldn't see at all. She couldn't even try to go down fighting.

    A long, high keening escaped her throat as she buried her face in the crook between his armor and helmet, seeking the scent and warmth of human flesh, so if nothing else, she didn't have to feel like she was alone. She felt her horns, invisible to the eye, tap against the man's visor and shoulder, and withdrew, unseeing eyes wide Still she saw rings of turquoise and magenta and pinprick stars, but now she saw also a a more distinct outline of the man that held her, and shades of dark and light around.

    "Nnnn." Another keen as a bang nearby startled her. Her grip tightened.
  10. It honestly should not have been a surprise that the girl almost yanked Miles off his feet before she smushed her face to his in what amounted to a surprisingly strong bearhug. The momentum of the change was enough to unbalance the soldier a little so that he had to take a step backwards, which made him wince when his injured leg took on more of a strain than it should have. Fortunately for Rare, he did not feel her horns tap to his shoulder and armour, mostly because he was occupied with the pain that flared up in him along with the fact that his armour's navigation software had ceased working. Which meant that he only roughly knew where the nearest shelter was, which in turn meant that he would have to spend more of his time searching than he would have liked.

    Well, it was not like that the puny kinetic emplacement that he had manned with his comrades were of any help against the damned taelrikon, so there was no point in finding a new unit too fast. He would just decrease his chances of survival and the girl seemed to think so too as she recoiled with wide eyes.

    "Sshh, don't worry," said Miles as he shifted his leg so that it no longer hurt like hell, then he adjusted his grip on the child. Now he was holding her with only one of his arms. "I know you're scared, but we're going to make it through this. I'll take you to a shelter and you'll get to see again, all right? Those metal things don't blind permanently." The soldier tried his best to sound as if everything was all right in the world. He even started walking slowly towards where he figured the shelter would be. But deep down, his guilt stirred yet again as his words were nothing but reassuring lies that were meant to calm down teenagers and children.
  11. Rare nodded, her entire body trembling as she held tight to the man. His words reassured, but only until the next loud noise came and spooked her back into keening as she buried her face against him, eyes shut tight.

    She tried hard to ignore the impending doom, to let his fear-scented words soothe her, but as a Hunter, she knew. She could tell they were lies. Another high-pitched whine escaped, and she was trapped by her own silence. She wanted to call him a liar, to scream rage at an unhearing Council, and to cry, but her long silence had already robbed her of the ability to make more than a few tiny croaks that didn't sound the least bit similar to words.

    Her brown-eyed gaze stared up at the man who held her tight—the liar who tried to comfort her, and she held tighter to him, her strength more than a little girl should possess.
  12. She was in hysterics and Miles had no idea what he could do to calm her down except to hold her a little closer and keep telling her the lies that he did not believe in. It seemed to have no effect at all on her, which was honestly not that much of a surprise given the steady staccato of explosions in the background, the very same ones which blinded her, so it was not like the soldier could blame the poor thing. In truth, he was almost as scared as her because he knew terrible things that she did not. The higher-ups said that reinforcements were under way but... Miles had read the files thanks to one of his friends. The navy of humanity could only hope to defeat a taelrikon fleet if they outnumbered it seven to one... Without one of their damned motherships.

    One of which was taking gleeful pleasure in filling the sky with fusion projectiles.

    He did not know what the chances were with that in play, but they could not be great, so as he slowly walked forward, he tried to convince himself that this was not a hopeless cause. He kept babbling about how they were headed for a safe shelter that would have doctors in it who could then help Rare. He talked about how they would be safe there, about how they could get rest and that the fusion cannons could not possibly reach them through layer upon layer of reinforced concrete. He occasionally tried to stroke Rare's hair, but he always decided against it because his armour was charred, damaged and not any sort of thing that should be near a young girl's beautiful hair.

    And each time he repeated his lies, the guilt in his conscience grew. What was he supposed to do? He could not tell the truth! He, out of all people, a soldier, had to keep up the front that it was all right or else everything would collapse! It was grinding away at him, even more so than his injured leg that flared in pain every time he moved it.
  13. Rare sniffled as she held tighter. More high-pitched whining came from her, and her arms tightened. Had it not been for the blasts and explosions and the smell of burning and death all around, she might have believed the man, but no. No, she was here because this place was doomed, and the Council wanted rid of her. She was certain of it. She didn't even have the strength of will to pull away to sign to the man to stop lying, but instead only gripped him tighter.

    She didn't even know what the potion she'd been given did, but it didn't remove her healing ability, she could tell that much.

    A blast came somewhere nearby, and Rare's fingers traced a design on the man's neck. For the briefest moment as dust blew up around them, the two existed in a still sphere of clean air before the ball around them broke and the dust rushed in about them. "Hnn!" She whimpered, especially scared now that her shield fell so easily.
  14. Miles had done his best, really, but the girl was not calming down at all and her panic was starting to rub off on him too as if he had not been trained to remain calm in all situations. It was simply terrifying what a young girl could do to one's nerves when they refused to listen to their elders who surely knew the situation better than her. This was made even worse given that she clung to the soldier with strength that far surpassed her size and actually constricted his breath from time to time as if he was not wearing armour designed to deflect kinetic projectiles. Seriosly, what was this girl made out of? It was not enough that she seemed to lack vocabulary completely, no, she also had freakish strength that belonged to an adult instead of a teenager!

    "We're almost there, please calm down," tried Miles as he dragged his injured foot after himself. "It's a safe place, I promise! You won't be hurt there and the fusion cannons can't make it through the walls." Except that they could. They could and they will, because they had a temperature of millions of kelvins, which really made the soldier wish that he had not read those files. The situation was made all the more terrifying when he knew things that he should not have, when he knew just how powerful the taelrikon were compared to humanity. He felt like a mere ant which prostrated itself in front of a human's foot, only to be set on fire, then stepped on before the giant moved on to crush his entire anthill.

    But soon they would be relatively safe and- Why was there a thick smoke coming from the shelter?

    "Oh shit," muttered Miles as the stench hit his nose. If the maelstrom of smells in the city was bad, then this was gut-wrenching and horrifying. The scent of thousands of people's evaporated, charred flesh mixed with the foul smell of molten concrete along with the fragrance of cooked-off ammunition and ozone. Of course, the soldier immediately cycled his helmet to filter the air lest he vomit into his visor, but the girl in his hands would probably be not so lucky and he was too weak to even hold her properly at the sight before him. It was not even that terrible, because it was just a huge hole burned into the ground. But it was made all the more horrifying because he knew what used to be here.
  15. Rare smelled it immediately. She turned, eyes wide, and stared at the wreckage; she could not see it clearly, save a vague outline. She could smell the remains clearly, she could even count a few hundred individual human scents. Her body froze as she stared, utterly silent with eyes unseeing. This was it. This was the end. This was utter proof she was sent here to perish. Had the people here any chance of survival, a team of combat Hunters would have been sent instead of small, weak, helpless little Rare.

    Tears fell freely as she stared at the hole in the ground, unable to see it had once been a shelter. For all she knew, it could have been an office building or apartment complex.

    Her grip loosened, and her body became limp as she realized she was trapped, with no way to save herself or anyone else. Her keening became quieter and higher, and her sops faded. She could hardly breathe.

    What felt like hours was only a moment, though, and the scent violated her mouth and nose. She shoved suddenly away from the man as the reek yanked from the child her last meal, offering the man more to wonder at in its sheer volume. Whatever she ate last was feast-like in proportions, based on sheer volume.

    Rare remained there, one hand shoved against the man's chest armor as the other gripped his arm. After a few moments, she turned to look at him, trying to see through the blindness, trembling and coated in dust and sick and tears, and simply stared, waiting for... something. Anything.
    #15 The Mood is Write, May 25, 2016
    Last edited: May 25, 2016
  16. This was it. Miles did not even care that he was vomited on and that the little girl in his arm was positively trembling, her silence saying volumes more about her fear than her high keening before. Mostly because he too, was reduced to stunned silence from the shock of all of his hopes reduced to thin air. He had clung to this last straw as if he had been a drowning man in the middle of the sea but now everything was for naught. All the lies he had told, all the convincing he tried to do had amounted to nothing under the sun because there was no way he was going to find another shelter in time. The nearest one was dozens of kilometres away and with his busted leg, he could not possibly make his way there along with this shivering child.

    It really was over. Hope had been lost, killed and then thrown into a ditch by the roadside. Then its corpse was looted by vultures before dogs devoured whatever was left of it. A bleak look of absolute loss sat out onto the soldier's face as he slumped down on the ground. He did not care that he would marinate his already far from spotless armour in vomit, he did not care that he collapsed into a pool of filth, he did not mind that he no longer kept up his facade and he did not mind that the child in his hands would not survive because... This world was dead. He could not keep fooling himself by believing that it still had a chance to live, as if he had ever really held that sentiment in the first place.

    "Hey..." he said to Rare with his brown eyes that should have been warm, yet conveyed nothing but a vacant, hopeless stare. "I... don't think I can take you to a shelter." Whatever would come next, it would not matter because it would be reduced to ash within moments.
  17. Rare felt how the man's body tilted, then sank. Falling to his knees? She couldn't see, but she could smell: the frantic scent of fleeing prey, replaced by calm. The man gave up, as she had, and somehow, it felt... wrong.

    Men were supposed to be stronger than women.

    Rare whimpered quietly, and brought herself closer to the man, her body shaking as she wrapped her arms tight around him, head beside his as she held him, seeking comfort like he was a stuffed animal.

    Tears fell freely as she whimpered, face buried against him, though not quite touching as her horns pressed into his shoulder and helmet. Everything was dead, and they would be too, but perhaps it wouldn't be as scary if they remained together... Maybe.

    Her trembling refused to ease. Her keening, quiet and accompanied by sniffles, became irregular. Her horns clicked against his armor as she tried to nuzzle against him, to hide her face against skin and bury her nose and forget the burnt meat and hair and metal and plastic and stone.

    "Hnn!" She whined.
  18. Men may have been supposed to be stronger than women, but not even they were capable of standing up to the forces which were intent on the destruction of this planet. Those things up in the sky far outclassed all of humanity's ingenuity and they cared not for its continued existence, because the people they slaughtered were to them like ants. They could swarm all they like, yet they would never be able to pose a threat to their gigantic figure, especially not when there were handy pesticides nearby that could burn through even the thickest of ceramics with little effort. Thus, the giants used these tools with glee to show the pathetic creatures beneath them that they were the true masters of the universe.

    Then their universe was turned upside-down as a change rippled through the surface of this doomed stellar object. One could try without end to find a word for it, yet they would fail misarably because humanity lacked the words to properly describe it. It was hope and despair at the same time, famine which walked arm-in-arm with endless feasts, strength that appreciated weakness, greed that gave away from itself until there was no more to give. It stirred something infinitely primal in humans or human-like creatures, something that they instinctively knew of from the time they had first discovered how to make fire. They could not possibly describe it, of course, because it had been buried beneath thousands of years of history.

    But while humanity always lacked words, it never lacked actions. And a sapphire blue lightning so bright that Rare could actually see its texture along with its shape was definitely an action, especially seeing as it tore into one of the golden battleships in the sky. It pierced layer upon layer of protection before it impaled the alien shape completely, then it almost split it into two. Stars were forced to be born once more in response, but their light would never come to be as forces far stronger than them made their cores implode in their infancy. And for a moment everything was perfectly still as the titans realised their grave mistake before their tools were redirected in an attempt to kill the new pest that assaulted them.

    "Close your eyes!" shouted Miles as the taelrikon fleet above him and the poor girl opened fire with all of its fusion cannons at once. The deliberate pace that they had set for themselves was completely gone. The heavens were washed white, so bright that was actually painful to look at even through shut eyes, but the fleet's efforts were for naught as many of the projectiles missed their mark or outright disappeared. The others? They were caught by an invisible hand that smashed them into the nearest battleship and they melted one of the metal beast's sections into useless scrap. Of course, the fleet opened fire once again, but the situation clearly changed. Rare could feel it too, because the despair was gone from Miles.

    "By the Seolerinah herself... Keep your eyes shut and thank your luck. That's an Exycoran!" Incredible. They may have a chance after all!
  19. Blinded again by the brightness, Rare turned her head away and closed her eyes, but it did nothing. More whines escaped as, panicked, she tried to understand.

    The scent of death had left the man, and the fear faded. He'd escaped despair, but she didn't understand his relief. Explosions and crashing came from around her, and so loudly she could hear them even more clearly than she heard the man's voice. She gripped him tight, trembling as everything shook.

    Everything was overwhelming, and she couldn't-

    Rare buried her face against the man with a long, distressed keen.
  20. What the heck was wrong with this girl? The mere mention of Exycorans should have reassured her, which was nothing to say of the feeling that had rushed through Miles and surely, had went through her too. The soldier could not even start to understand why she kept on crying, because as far as he along with every ordinary civilian were concerned, they had just been saved from certain death. He was absolutely confused for far too long before he finally realised that not only had this girl's sight been taken away, but she was also hearing incredibly loud noises, so maybe it did not sink in to her that her saviours have arrived. He could not fault her for that, so he hugged her closer despite the restrictions that his armour imposed upon him.

    "It'll be all right now," he said, though this time, he was not lying. Exycorans were synonymous with salvation and even though the fire of fusion cannons still streaked across the sky, they would not be able to kill this part of humanity. Sure, against an entire fleet, the chances were not so great but it was enough until more reinforcements arrived. "Do you feel that?" he asked in order to pay attention to the strange emotion that had no doubt affected Rare too. "That's an Exycoran. It's come to save us and defeat the taelrikon and it won't fail." The conviction in Miles' words was nothing short of first-rate even though back in the skies, the fight did not seem to be going so well for this so-called Exycoran. For one, its shape could not be seen and for two, the taelrikon fleet switched to a stream of constant fusion cannon fire from the initial, panicked burst.

    But Miles had hope as he more felt than saw sapphire blue lightning arc across the skies. He had kept his own advice and had shut his eyes to prevent them from liquifying because of the constant stream of fusion fire along with psionic phenomena.