Gilbert and the leader stared at each other, crimson painting their feet.
"You are still green, young knight," the death watch leader said. "When you walk into death's realm, do it without hope. Don't beg at the altar of life, stand tall, face the end of your measly existence, and give death everything you've got. That's the only honor you'll leave with."
Gilbert winced as he rolled his injured arm, the shoulder-mounted assault rifle adjusting with a faint servo hiss. He slid one of his blades back into its sheath, movements tight with pain but controlled.
"All that Styx meat you've been shoveling into your face must've fried whatever was left of your brain," he said, eyes narrowing behind his visor. "Want me to cut it open and check for damage?"
The knight let out a low, metallic chuckle, distorted by his helm's speaker.
"Heh… The young are always so foolish. You struggled with two blades — and now, you think you can win with one and a busted arm?"
Gilbert twirled his remaining sword with practiced flair, the blade humming faintly with energy.
"I don't need both arms to bury you," he said, eyes locked, voice calm — but burning.
The air thickened with tension as Gilbert launched forward, his flight unit flaring to life. The burst of momentum sent him gliding across the chamber floor, his boots barely touching the surface.
Electricity arced along the edge of his sword, casting a flickering light across his armor. At the same time, his shoulder-mounted assault rifle roared to life, laying down a stream of suppressing fire.
The knight moved with surprising speed, twisting his body as he weaved between the incoming rounds. His grotesque weapon, moved in tandem, sweeping through the air to deflect any shots that threatened vulnerable areas of his armor. Sparks and splinters of metallic bone flew as rounds glanced off the twisting blade.
Gilbert closed the gap in a second, blade humming with energy, and swung.
The knight caught the strike with the flat of his monster-forged weapon, the impact jarring them both, metal shrieking.
The knight snarled, twisting his body and redirecting Gilbert's charged blade with a downward parry. The monster's spine scraped across the floor with a screech.
Gilbert didn't stop. He pivoted on his heel, thrusters flaring, his momentum carrying him into a spinning strike with his offhand pistol. He fired point blank, once, twice, but the knight turned his shoulder, his pauldron absorbing one round while the other was sent ricocheting off his spine blade as it snapped back into guard.
"You fight like a rabid dog," the knight growled, voice echoing through the reverb of his helm, "Fast. Wild. Undisciplined."
Gilbert ducked under a wild slash but an armored fist still connected to his head, he activated his thrusters, flipping backward, firing while upside-down, landing hard but steady. He spat blood, grinning as his visor flickered from the impact his helmet vacuuming the blood to clear his vision.
"Funny," he panted, sword buzzing with renewed arcs of electricity, "I was about to say the same about you — except older, slower and uglier."
The knight roared, lunging again, this time feinting high before slamming his blade toward Gilbert's injured arm. Gilbert twisted mid-step, letting the blade crash beside him as he shoulder-rolled away — pain flaring white-hot through his body.
"You can't keep this up," the knight spat, advancing. "You're a child swinging at ghosts, leading children who should have already gone to bed."
Gilbert holstered the pistol, gripped his sword in both hands despite the burn in his shoulder, and steadied his breath.
Gilbert looked around observing his squadmates, they were struggling but still, they held barely even with cover fire.
"I don't need to keep up," he said. "I just need one opening."
The knight didn't hesitate. He charged with a brutal thrust — spine blade aimed straight at Gilbert's chest.
Gilbert dropped his stance low at the last second—the blade missing his heart by inches, scraping along his armor as he turned into it. His sword flashed — and plunged deep into the exposed joint between the knight's hip and torso.
The knight howled.
Gilbert yanked the blade out, ducking under a retaliatory swing, and drove his shoulder into the knight's chest — knocking them both back, and tumbling away.
Both combatants staggered to their feet.
As they raised their weapons, Gilbert smiled beneath his visor. The two warriors lunged at each other once more, blades clashing with a furious rhythm, Gilbert still on the defensive as they maneuvered into a narrow passage. The knight feinted, then suddenly struck Gilbert's injured shoulder with a vicious punch. The pain flared as Gilbert stepped back but he gritted his teeth and held on to the knight's arm, using his sword he restricted the knight's usage of his other arm.
Before the knight could react, a sharp pain shot through his lower back.
"AHHH!"
He roared, swinging his spine blade in a wide, circular arc, forcing both Gilbert and the stealthy attacker to retreat. His howl echoed through the chamber, alerting his squadmates, who swiftly broke away from their skirmishes and regrouped around him.
"Who started the party without me?" came Kean's bright playful voice as he twirled his dagger, stepping out of the shadows by Gilbert's side. Gilbert acknowledged him with a silent nod, his focus still on the enemy.
"Were you always this slow?" Vivian's cool, full voice followed as she strode into view, discarding her flamethrower modules with deliberate grace. She drew a sleek shotgun from her back, her posture posed as she loaded shells into the chamber.
"As I said before, I don't have to beat you," Gilbert said, his shoulder-mounted assault rifle whirring into position. "I just had to hold on." He bumped his armored fist against Kean's with a smirk.
"Well done, Gilbert Kruger," the enemy commander replied with a grim smile, blood trickling from a gash in his armor. "Until we meet again- remember, death only knocks once."
He signaled the retreat.
"You don't think we would let you off that easy, do you?" Kean grinned, crackling his knuckles while bouncing in place.
Beside him, William raised his spear with a measured pace, his movement sharp clearly dissatisfied. "That last exchange was from conclusive."
But before either could act, Gilbert raised his hand.
"Let them go," he said calmly. His voice darkened with rage. "Your failure to kill me today shall lead to your death tomorrow, and I shall leave your flesh and bones to satiate the Styx."
The enemy leader let out a low chuckle, his silhouette framed by their helmet lights. Without another word, he and his partners slipped into the shadows, vanishing into the depths beyond the light's reach.
The squad remained on high alert for several more minutes, weapons trained on the dark tunnels, until the immediate threat passed. Only then did they begin to relax. Gilbert staggered slightly, and Kean was at his side in an instant, catching him before he fell.
"Check injuries and resupply," Gilbert ordered, voice strained but firm. "Adam, stay alert a little while longer."
Kean guided him over to Chen Mei who, with graceful precision, removed Gilbert's damaged pauldron passing it to Anastasia, and began treating the wound. Her movements were practiced, calm, almost surgical the only time when Chen Mei really showed the nobility of her origins.
Adam, still standing watch, cast a glance over his shoulder toward Gilbert.
"You didn't tell him your name," he said as if making a casual observation.
"I know," Gilbert replied evenly.
"Yet you still let them go?""Yes," Gilbert said, not looking up. Chen Mei finished securing the bandage with a crisp knot, and Gilbert rolled his shoulder, testing it before taking his patch pauldron he stared at the two charms dangling from it, a bird and a bird's nest before he then went about reattaching it.
Without another word, he moved to support the others, scanning their surroundings once more.
Adam glanced at him one last time. He didn't press the matter.
The look they shared said enough.
They remained in position until their zone was officially marked clean. Gilbert filed the full report, detailing their encounter with the Deathwatch. The reply came back terse and absolute.
"Continue mission."
No praise. No explanations. Just coordinates to their next objective.
Without the ability to voice a complaint, they moved out, navigating the dark twisting passages toward their new zone. They encountered collectors and other knight squads moving with urgency. Styx appeared intermittently - sometimes several minutes between sightings, other times a relentless flood for minutes on end.
As they moved through another narrow corridor, Adam suddenly stopped. He knelt beside the corpse of a fallen knight, silent and focused. With a small hand gesture, he venerated the dead. The others held position as he began to search the body. He worked quickly, stripping ammunition, salvaging gear, and even pulling wires from the knight's damaged armor.
Vivian was the first to process his actions.
"Adam, what do you think you're doing!?" She chided, her voice raising in indignation and disgust."Have you no respect for our fallen warriors?"
She strode toward him, her sharp footsteps echoing through the corridor, grabbing her shoulder with her gloved hand.
Adam didn't flinch. He simply shrugged her off.
"This how we survive," he said voice low and dull. Without a word, he handed the salvaged supplies to Anastasia and Chen Mei moving back to his position in the squad.
Vivian not willing to let him off easy stood in front of him unmoving but Adam held his ground undeterred by her actions.
"Vivian, Adam is right. We need these supplies," said Gilbert deep voice from his position at the rear of the squad. Vivian gave him a sharp stare through her visor.
"We are vultures who need to feast on the fallen," Vivian said in a dignified voice.
"Then you shall join them in the realm of the dead," Gilbert replied to her his voice commanding.