Chương 5: The Figure in the dust

A million thoughts raced through June's thoughts, then a million more. Why did IT look like that? Its face and body were still just a silhouette in the cloud of dust, but even then it was deeply wrong. June was a short man, especially for his age, but the figure stood as high as the large elevator doors; the elevator alone was nearly 4 meters in height. The figure's torso and limbs were elongated and thin; something could not, SHOULD not, be able to move with limbs like that.

Its silhouette ducked under the elevator's jamb, and a headdress sprung up as the creature's head left the elevator chamber. A thin, yet imposing spear held under its arm sat between its armpit with its butt facing the ceiling and the spear tip with a hanging piece of cloth drooping to the floor. It did not speak, and its face and details were obscured, but the sound of its imposing archaic breath alone made June's world shake, or maybe just his mind.

The creature seemed to have also noticed June; soft sounds of flesh against the marble floor rang out in the lavish lobby of this megastructure. Rubble and alloy debris could not resist and crumbled equally as this towering creature slowly walked towards June with a measured gait. June needed to decide: the gun or the communicator. Both options had their risks. The communicator might be his saving grace; maybe this monster was a human just like him, one here to save him.

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it. OR The gun might be his only choice; this human might be an actual monster. June's arm was still broken; he had never fired an actual gun, and the closest to an actual fight he had ever been in was in a VR boxing match with his friend, which he obviously lost.

A chillingly beautiful woman with midnight purple hair sat in a flawless business suit in a military-issue pop-up tent. The tent was spacious compared to the usual camping tent; it was spacious enough for a dozen soldiers to cram in, but this tent was reserved for this beauty. A small table covered in a mess of paperwork separated a small cohort of 5 from her ice-cold yet evident fury. The woman had deep bags under her eyes; they were sunken even.

A cold cup of coffee in a cheap disposable cup was on her table, and a pile of the same disposable cups littered the tent. The woman let out a deep, frustrated sigh.

"There's a survivor in the city." Silence filled the room; even the world outside the tent seemed to have paused.

"Seems like our 'state-of-the-art' gear isn't state-of-the-art enough." She paused, then lit a cigarette and took a long, tired drag.

"I'm sending you on a retrieval mission; evacuate the survivor and make it clandestine; even the big boss can't know." After a minute of silence interrupted by the woman's cigarette drags, a large man stood forward.

"Lieutenant, ma'am, could we know what we are getting ourselves into?" The woman pressed the cigarette against the ashtray.

"Ma'am works fine; it's a temporary promotion anyways. The survivor is mundane, potentially an aspirant, but the mission should be nothing more than a rescue. Avoid contact, but use your own discretion. The reason for its clandestine nature is that the big boss doesn't want to risk their precious soldiers to save one civilian. I guess at the end of the day, people are just a statistic to people like our higher-ups...

I get it, but hypothetically speaking, a small cohort of 5 learns about the survivor by accident and goes on a little trip. Sounds fine, doesn't it?" The man stood silently. After a while of silence, the lieutenant's personal communicator went off, and it was June yelling in panicked gibberish and unheard-of curses.