With blood trickling on his forehead, he shoved away the trash blocking their way. With every gasp he took comes desperation. The shield user managed to pave his way to safety, carrying an injured companion, namely the one in the ninja suit.
Drip. Blood slowly impedes his vision.
A blurry vision, an inescapable fate.
But he won't give up, not after coming this far.
But even that courage that he mustered up in that moment was wavered by the sound of gnawing bones. The very sound that was coming from his arm.
"Argh! Come on! Come on! You like to chew on that? Then I'll let you have it!"
Pulling whatever's left of his arm, he hastily sprinted away. The rodents following were distracted by their meal. The man mentally whispered to himself.
"W-we're almost there...almost there...please hang on a bit longer, my friend."
____
"I wonder what's going on outside."
"Right? But we'd die the moment we let our curiosity get the better of us."
Finally, people who get it. In movies, actors would do something foolish, such as going back and re-examining things when they already know a difficult situation is going on.
Twenty minutes have passed since the incident. Volunteers systematically distributed the relief supplies. While watching their actions, I noticed their disoriented faces. What's going on?
As we waited for the good news, I contacted my friends outside the city and asked if something similar had happened in their area. They said there was none.
"Are you in Karmir City, then? You're in the relief center, yes?" April anxiously asked, to which I responded positively. I could hear her sigh of relief on the other end of the phone call.
"Then you better—"
A deafening scream filled the air, blocking out my focus. April heard it too and asked, panicking.
"Please don't worry, April. It's not related to me. I'll contact you soon, alright?"
I just don't want to pour more fuel on her unease.
She sniffled before answering yes, ending our call.
I rushed towards the scene. It was easy to spot where it was. What awaited my eyes was...
___
"I...I made it! You see that, man? We made it!"
He was gasping, but luck was still on their side, at least that was in his mind. He made it to the relief center, carrying his companion. As heavy as his footsteps were hope, a sincere wish of well-being.
"I'll retire after this. Right, man?"
No response came from his ally. He grumbled, but snickered soon after.
"I'll ask for compensation after this, man. I only have an arm left."
The front guards noticed their presence. He was about to wave with his free hand, but soon realized that there was nothing there. Perhaps recognizing its absence, his mind drifted back to something that was bugging him earlier.
"Was I supposed to be this light? Even with my lost arm, I still have my friend on me," he muttered.
The medics rushed to patch him up, but their locomotion went to a standstill.
"W-why? What's wrong?"
He instinctively looked back, worried that a Rodent, or worse, the mutant was behind them.
There were no traces of fiends nearby, but fresh blood was on their tail. His mind went blank as he slowly put his companion down.
His friend was but half of a whole, his remaining organs exposed.
___
It was horrifying to anyone witnessing this right now.
A man kneeling on his knees. He lost an arm, but that was not the thing that robbed the light from his eyes.
In front of him was a person who had lost his lower half. I was able to glance at the corpse before a blanket veiled its appearance. The man monologued with tears in his eyes.
"H-how will I tell my sister that you perished, man? How about our other pal? How could I explain to his parents that he miserably died? If only I were stronger, I would be able to protect you... If only I were better...!"
He was blaming himself.
Being a fiend hunter was not sunshine and rainbows. The profession is life-threatening. Based on everyday news alone, an insurmountable quantity of hunters come and go. A steady income, but one fatal injury may end all dreams. It's a high-risk, high-return occupation.
Back in my past job, we were working day and night gathering important data and planning strategies just to minimize casualties. Some...no, MOST hunters prefer to shove all information away and push forward only with force. Don't they think they need to at least know a bit about the fiends they're going to face!? Hah, remembering that awful past just gives me a headache.
I shook my head and focused on the person. Someone was about to pour a potion on his arm, but he refused, saying things like "I don't need it. Please give it to my friend instead," and "I'll be fine, please don't worry."
He is still in a state of denial. Not that I can blame him. Making his way over here, just to be slapped with a devastating truth, is antagonizing.
"W-what the...?"
I managed to dodge an incoming potion bottle that was flying straight towards me. I was sure that it was coming from their direction. Did someone forcefully try to heal him? He was angrily screaming, too. That won't do. If this continues, it will garner the attention of fiends that might be lurking around.
"You are wasting their efforts and resources, sir."
"Now who are you!?"
"I'm someone who you almost got hit with that stray bottle." I sternly said.
The man flinched and went silent. Then, in a shaky voice, he said, "I-I'm sorry. I'm just frustrated. I didn't mean any harm. B-but, my friends...my friends..."
I sighed as I took one of the bottles available for use. He was still tense, possibly thinking that I might use it on him. Well, that part is true, but a little pep talk won't hurt.
"You think they'll be fine seeing you in that state, then? Won't they be frustrated as well upon seeing your current condition?"
"B-but..."
"You know they won't be happy, right? I'm not saying that you must forget and move on. What I want to convey is that you need to live and tell your family about what happened. That's the heavy responsibility we survivors must take."
I reached out, the potion in my hand. A faint trace of light returned to his eyes. He raised his only arm to take it and ingest its contents. His body slightly glowed as the healing process went on.
Then, in a low voice, I whispered.
"And I'm saying this because I know how it feels."