The Hunt for Garrus Vakarian
Hmmn... Hard to believe it's all finally over.
When you dedicate your life to something, and then finally see it accomplished after so long, you have to wonder to yourself... Now what? It's not easy living for one purpose, and then trying to find something else once that purpose had been fulfilled. No, not at all. This was not an easy thing for anyone, and Garrus Vakarian was no exception.
There was no need to tell anyone, but this very Garrus Vakarian had more ties to the Murder Games phenomena than anyone, perhaps more so than even he realized. Even if there was someone in the downfall of Elliot that he had recognized from back then, the fact of the matter was that Garrus was actually one of the
"Progenitors." In short, he had been a part of the Murder Games since the beginning. Alongside the likes of Solaire of Astora, Queen Elsa of Arendelle, among others, Garrus Vakarian had fought in the Crossed Incident, one of the earliest known Murder Games recorded by the Coalition and the Multiversal United Nations. He had fought against the likes of Albert Wesker and his goons from the Umbrella Organization alongside S.H.I.E.L.D. and its very own Nick Fury.
Garrus had been one of the many casualties that had resulted over the course of the event, perishing at the hands of the Ustanak, one of Wesker's creations. And from there, Garrus would awaken in a sort of afterlife. The realm of the Reapers, headed by a young man who called himself Joshua. There, the young man offered Garrus, as well as a number of other people he did not recognize, a second chance at life, should they survive a task known as The Reapers' Game. However, it seemed that even in death, Garrus could not escape the Murder Games, as unbeknownst to even Joshua himself, the game was actually another Murder Game orchestrated by a man named John White, who served the Arch Demon working alongside Wesker as well.
Even so, after the defeat of John White, Garrus had managed to come back to life, and returned to his own world, reuniting with the likes of Shepard and the others. There, Garrus had believed that he had managed to escape the Murder Games. All that talk of some Arch Demon... To be perfectly honest, that wasn't much of his concern. The other people could worry about him, but Garrus here had Reapers to worry about, and personally, those Reapers were much scarier than some self-proclaimed all-powerful demon who had to work with shady humans in sunglasses with an army of what was essentially just Husks.
But once again, Garrus was a fool to believe that he had escaped the Murder Games, as the next he'd hear about the Reapers along with Shepard and her crew, it would turn out that the Reapers had been modified and become more powerful than ever due to the efforts of a kid named Elliot, with dreams of ruling the multiverse or something to that degree. So once again, Garrus fought in another Murder Game.
And once again, it had been won. The day was saved with the death of Elliot and the defeat of the Reapers. So now it had come full circle, and Garrus asked himself... Now what?
That was the kind of question Garrus struggled to answer. He was a restless fellow, or at least, he had become restless without a good firefight in front of him. After all, he was a soldier. Fighting was all he was good at, so when there wasn't much to fight over... Garrus drifted. He didn't take a permanent leave, but he did decide to take a minor, temporary leave of absence, residing in the Citadel, where he had hoped to find a new passion in life. Maybe he could take up writing? Painting? Something normal people did?
Ha. Fat chance.
Garrus knew he wasn't really cut out for crap like that, but he still continued to wonder. And that's what led him to this here today.
- - -
On a day like any other, spending his idle time in a private room he had rented on the Citadel, Garrus was making use of his free time like a normal, boring person would. Reading random E-books wasn't really a hobby of his, considering the things he usually read included mission reports, ship dataframes, and that sort of junk, but hey, variety was the spice of life, so the Turian wondered... Why the hell not?
Well, he found the answer to that question. This was boring as all hell! How could people enjoy this over sitting atop a bridge, throwing cans of ale, throwing them into the air, and shooting them like fish in a barrel?! The soldier had never felt more restless in his life. Some could say it was unlike him to be irritable like this, but as mentioned before, when you--
Clink clank.
"Hmm?!"
Before Garrus would be able to finish his thoughts, a sound like glass being shuffled around would be heard, causing the alien to jerk his head to behind him. The place where he was staying in wasn't particularly big, but it wasn't so small that he could instantly identify the source of whatever sound he made.
Either way, something was off.
After all, the door was supposed to be locked and the windows were supposed to be closed. There wasn't supposed to be any way to get in.
Emphasis on "supposed to."
Like a cautious old man wondering what was going on out on his front porch, Garrus immediately set his E-book on the coffee table in front of him and swiftly, but quietly, stood up from his sofa, before reaching over to the side for his gun. Garrus had a particular affinity for certain kinds of sniper rifles like the one he would reach over for and take, the gun having been leaning against the wall nearby, and though he had lost his particular favorite one during the Reaper Incident, he was still quite fond of the new one that he had acquired.
It was just as effective at dealing with intrusive pests.
Walking off in the direction in which he had heard the strange noise from, Garrus kept his wits about him. On one hand, this was a perfect opportunity to see if his skills had atrophied over time in just a manner of a few days if it turned out to be an actual intruder, but on the other... Well, Garrus wasn't about to think about negatives and stuff like that. The only thing on his mind was what he believed.
And what he believed was that the noise he had heard was
not the result of some bug or rat making itself comfortable in his temporary home.
Tap tap.
Whoosh.
In the blink of an eye, Garrus would shift in its direction when he'd hear another sound from behind him, like footsteps. This kind of situation was strange, admittedly. Usually, Garrus compared the heat of battle to a fierce struggle. A firefight in which he and his enemy were two mighty animals on equal standing. But here... this was clearly something different.
It was like he was being stalked. Like a defenseless little Volus stalked by a Rachni.
In other words, like prey stalked by its predator..
However, Garrus was going to make sure that he was no prey. He was going to determine who was the hunter here, and who was the hunted.
Wheeze.
"Hu--?!"
Whapow!
Faster than Garrus could realize, a strange humanoid figure sporting medium armor and a gas mask with glowing red eyes would appear to the Turian's side, lunging two arms forward in a very unorthodox move, both hands curled into fists as the man's left arm socked Garrus in the face while the other moved to knock the sniper rifle out of the Turian's hands! Caught by surprise and unable to protect himself, the alien soldier was knocked into the nearby wall by the sheer physical strength of the intruder who had made himself visible.
In the heat of the moment, not even registering the aching pain in his face, Garrus made his next move. In battle, you always had to keep moving. If you stood like a deer in the headlights for even a second, that one second could mean the difference for life and death. With the rifle no longer in his hands, Garrus fumbled for the nearest object that he could use; a glass vase of flowers, a gift that Shepard had sent. He really hated to do this to a present for him, but desperate times called for desperate measures, after all!
As soon as his hand would be placed on the vase, the man in the gas mask would move over to Garrus and throttle him, the sheer strength of his grip threatening to choke Garrus out. Even after just one second of being choked by the neck, Garrus could almost feel the pressure of the grip threaten to crush something in his neck. What that something was, he wasn't about to find out, as Garrus would immediately take this chance to smash the glass vase into his attacker's face, a loud
CRASH sound resonating throughout the room as the vase had easily enough shattered.
Though he couldn't determine in the heat of the moment whether it actually did any damage or not, he didn't stop to wait, following up with a swift kick to the stomach, knocking the intruder into the opposite wall. It was then that Garrus would grab a broken shard of glass, holding it defensively in front of him like a makeshift knife. Actual bladed weapons had somewhat gone out of fashion in this day and age, considering he could very well just pull out a blade from his Omni-tool if so desired, but that would have taken too much time to pull out. This would have to do for know until he'd get into a better position.
With cautious and very alert eyes, the Turian sneered at his intruder, who wasn't making any sudden movements, despite the fact that he was standing upright, indicating that he hadn't been hurt very much.
"Who the hell--?!" Garrus began to exclaim, before finally getting a good look at his attacker. This man was a man whom he had not seen in a long time. An enemy that he never did get around to seeing die out.
A man who only went by the codename HUNK, commanded by Albert Wesker during the Crossed Incident.
"You... You're...!" Garrus could only exclaim. The word "surprise" would have been somewhat inaccurate, as that would imply that, on the list of people Garrus imagined would try to hunt him down, he wouldn't have expected it to be some remnant of Wesker's forces. Perhaps it'd be more accurate to say... apprehension? Well, who knew? Who could say for sure?
With that, the only response that the man known as HUNK would give would be the physical gesture of drawing a handgun from its holster. Though guns that shot actual projectile bullets, like physical bladed weapons, had gone out of style long ago in Garrus's world, they were still a threat. That's why as soon as he'd lay eyes upon the weapon, which he had grown familiar with during the Crossed Incident after seeing other people use those sorts of weapons, Garrus would instinctively attempt to evade the impending gunshot that HUNK was planning as he'd take aim, taking a combat roll to the side.
However, one thing he underestimated was not the comparatively primitive weapons at HUNK's disposal, but rather, his skill with them.
That was why, in mid-roll, Garrus would suddenly feel a sharp pain in his leg shortly after the sound of a loud
BANG, causing him to lose balance and trip, causing him to drop his makeshift blade and end up sprawled across the ground, eliciting a pained
"Gnngh!" out of him.
As he'd slam into the ground, Garrus would instantly try to recover, only to find that upon trying to get up, putting pressure on the wounded foot, he would immediately fall down again. Dammit, why?! Why of all times to be disabled like this?! Garrus had gone through a lot of pain before in his life. Hell, he once got shot at practically in the face by a missile! With that being said, it was easy for him to ignore the biting, gnawing pain, but the main disadvantage of that was it was harder for him to ascertain how grievous his injuries were. For all he knew, the bullet could have ripped through a tendon and he wouldn't even know.
With his mind scrambling and racing to think of a Plan B, the Turian would manage to quickly observe that the rifle that he had dropped wasn't too far away from him. If he could reach it in time, he'd have to rely on a shot from the hip, as this sort of environment was too cramped to make use of the scope. No pun intended, but this was quite literally the only shot he was gonna be able to get.
As HUNK would take aim, this time attempting to get a good aim of Garrus's head, Garrus would grab his rifle, which was luckily just barely in arm's reach, and roll onto his back, taking aim. But by then, HUNK was ready. And it was too late for Garrus to do anything.
BANG. BANG.
Even if Garrus would have somehow been able to survive the bullet that would hit him square in the forehead, the exit wound coming out from the back of his head as the bullet would hit the ground after, his movement would still have been in vain, as the bullet would just barely miss HUNK by several inches, the bullet ricocheting off the wall behind him and stopping after being buried into the adjacent one.
As Garrus instantly died a dog's death without even being given any time to regret his mistake, to have his life flash before his eyes, or any other lasting moments granted to those who could die peacefully, the apartment had suddenly become deathly silent as Garrus's corpse sat motionless on the ground. With no sign of emotion like pleasure, satisfaction, remorse, or anything, his face obscured by the mask, HUNK wasted no time in getting ready to make his leave, holstering his gun without a word.
Afterwards, after making his way over to the Progenitor's corpse and kneeling beside it, placing two fingers on the neck to check for a pulse, which there would be none, before standing up and pressing several buttons on his suit's wrist.
After a small moment, a voice would come out, as though there were some sort of speaker embedded in the suit. It was the voice of a man that HUNK seemed to deliberately contact. A man that he was allied with.
"Yes? What is it?"
"..."
HUNK didn't respond. In fact, it would be rather uncharacteristic, and perhaps even alarming, if he
did respond with words, so all he did was breathe heavily into the microphone on his suit, which seemed to be enough for his contact to respond with.
"Oh, it's you... So I presume the job is done? The Progenitor you were after's dead?"
Huff huff.
"I see. Good work then. Report back to me in person you can. You know where to find me."
With that, the man on the other side would cut the feed, and HUNK would make his leave as suddenly as he had invaded the apartment.
- - -
On the other side, the man whom HUNK had contacted sat in his office, digging through a pile of papers on his desk, before producing what seemed to be an old list of names. The list of participants from the Crossed Incident, a starting point of the Murder Games.
The names of the Progenitors. The original Survivors.
With a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, the man began to cross out another name from the list.
Adachi Tohru -
UNKNOWN
Ahzek Ahriman -
DECEASED
Aiden Pearce -
ALIVE
Annie Hastur -
UNKNOWN
Ariel -
DECEASED
Bigby Wolf -
UNKNOWN
Chrom -
ALIVE
Claire Redfield -
DECEASED
Clementine -
UNKNOWN
Dallas -
UNKNOWN
Dandy -
DECEASED
Debra Morgan -
ALIVE
Ellie -
UNKNOWN
Elsa -
DECEASED
Garrus Vakarian -
DECEASED
Hatty Harrington -
UNKNOWN
Isaac Clarke -
DECEASED
Jill Valentine -
ALIVE
Katniss Everdeen -
DECEASED
Kinzie Kensington -
ALIVE
Kiritsugu Emiya -
DECEASED
Lambdadelta -
ALIVE
Lann the Clever -
UNKNOWN
Leo Barnes -
ALIVE
Luke -
DECEASED
Matt Miller -
ALIVE
Mikasa Ackerman -
DECEASED
Molly -
ALIVE
Oswald Mandus -
UNKNOWN
Rand Al'Thor -
UNKNOWN
RED Spy -
DECEASED
Rin Okumura -
DECEASED
Ryuuko Matoi -
DECEASED
Shiki Tohno -
ALIVE
Solaire of Astora -
DECEASED
Subject Delta -
UNKNOWN
Vi -
DECEASED
Wynne -
UNKNOWN
