Broker

One-Shot rolled to the side, scrambling along the stonework walkway along the outer walls of the monastery. He reached up and pulled his hood down as he clutched at his rifle. A tingle of awareness washed over him, and he dipped his head low. Another bolt of yellow light shot over his head, and he slid to a stop, whipping his weapon around to aim again. Strands of wood fiber shot up in front of him, and he clicked his tongue, jumping back and landing on his feet as the fibers shot down to spear the spot where he’d been standing.

A shadow fell over him, and he looked up, his eyes going wide as an enormous man in plate armor hurtled down towards him, fist pulled back. Hands wrapped around his ankles, and the next thing he saw was darkness for a full heartbeat before he rolled out onto the grass outside the monastery. He coughed once and whipped his head up, looking towards his partner. Sideways was stepping out of the wall with a pale look on his face. They met one another’s eyes. “...getting the impression that this dungeon is being occupied.” Sideways said wryly.

One-Shot stood up and brushed himself off, stepping back to keep an eye on their surroundings. “You think?” He grunted and checked his weapon over once.

“It’s made from your ability, shotty…” Sideways droned dismissively as he joined his partner in his slow retreat from the building.

One-Shot glanced up at the outer wall of the massive building and searched it for a moment. “It’s habit, jackass,” he said, his voice dropping a bit lower as they eased back into the treeline. He raised the rifle and checked through the sights, scanning the roof. His eyes narrowed as something that couldn't be seen was highlighted for him. He pulled the trigger, and a bolt of mana lanced out. The unseen thing dove and darted away. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Great plan,” Sideways grunted. “We need to report the situation to the Committee. Get some backup.”

“Did you say backup?” a woman’s voice asked from behind them.

The two men spun, One-Shot raising his weapon to point. Sideways reached for a nearby tree. They both stared at the woman in dark gray combat fatigues. Her light breastplate had the Pandora logo emblazoned on it next to the symbol of the ASTA Corporation. She had blue hair, flat, almost lifeless blue eyes, and an amused smile on her face. He looked from her eerie features to her uniform again and then back up. “...you are?”

“Felwinter,” she said easily. “Epic tier. Frontliner for the ASTA East Coast Guild.” She raised an eyebrow. “Need ID?”

He pressed his lips together and glanced towards Sideways, who relaxed his stance a little. He looked over his shoulder at the monastery. The defenders hadn’t come after them. They were entirely focused on defending and not pursuing threats. He turned back to her. “Yeah, if you don’t mind…” he requested carefully. She shrugged and slipped her hand into her pocket. He tensed once, and then she tossed a card over to him. He caught it and looked at it, his eyebrows furrowing. “...It’s legit,” he murmured and tossed it back to her. “What are you doing overseas, Felwinter?”

Her lip twitched. “Solo assignment to check out a location my team leader divined,” she said blandly, resting her hand on her hip. “What about you?”

Divined? He narrowed his eyes but didn’t question it. There were all sorts of weird powers out there. “Official recon on an active dungeon detected in the area for the PC.”

She clapped her hands together. “Oh! You aren’t local heroes?” she asked.

He raised an eyebrow. “No?”

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“G-ugh!”

One-Shot whipped his head towards Sideways, who had jerked forward, his hands clawing at his chest as a spike of black material jutted out of the ground and through his back. His eyes rolled back into his head, and he convulsed once as the material began to spread along his skin. One-Shot barely opened his mouth to mourn his partner before a tingle of awareness warned him of impending danger. He leaped away, rolling along the ground and slamming his back into the wall. He raised his weapon and opened fire.

PING! PING PING PING!

A sheet of that black material shot up from the ground between him and her, and his mana bullets just splattered against it. A hole opened in the material, and one of her flat, lifeless eyes shone through it. “You’ve got good instincts!” She chuckled as the wall broke apart, collapsing into dozens of spikes. He didn’t need his senses to tell him to move. He just moved. He reached for his belt and grabbed his lift gun, pointing it at the outer wall of the monastery. The staccato of dozens of small impacts against the stone wall followed him up as the grappling hook launched from the gun drew him upward.

He landed and rolled again, pointing down and firing at her. Little columns of black material leaped from the ground with each shot as she casually walked towards the outer wall. Behind her, Sideways’ body, completely encased, twitched once before turning to look up at him. Then the… thing that once was Sideways darted towards the wall on all fours, leaping at it and digging long claws into the wall and climbing towards him.

One-Shot barely had time to think as another volley of spikes came flying at him. He could only double back again, turning and slapping his face right into something hard. He stumbled backwards, grasping his nose as pain blossomed. He blinked away the tears and looked up into the visor of the armored man that had tried to crush him earlier. His pupils shrank as an enormous hand wrapped around his torso and lifted him. “You’re intruding, hero…” the big man growled. “The boss doesn’t like noise.”

“The boss?” Felwinter called, alighting on the wall after stepping off of a step made of that same black material. Sideways’ corrupted body slipped in to stand behind her and twitched, fingers snapping with the promise of violence. “Do tell!”

The big man’s grip on One-Shot tightened, and he felt his shoulder pop painfully. He gasped and tried to grab for purchase. If he could just twist his arm a little more, he could call his gun back. The big man tilted his chin up. “You’re intruding too.”

She held up her hands. “Woah there, handsome, I just want to talk,” she hummed. “Besides! You and your friends couldn’t kill me if you tried.”

The big man grunted out a small laugh. “Wicker.”

Reedy threads of wood fiber sprung from the ground beneath her feet and wrapped around her. They immediately immolated as they curled and squeezed inward, attempting to crush the woman. Then the wood fiber jerked, deforming, creaking, before finally black spikes erupted from it before spinning like a sawblade around the woman. In a heartbeat, the flames and wood were annihilated. One-Shot stared in horror as the flat-eyed Felwinter just popped her neck and examined the armor on her arms and hands, wicked claws clacking together.

“You’re boring me…” she said warningly.

The big man’s hand clenched harder around One-Shot, and he felt his shoulder pop out of place. It was enough, though. He opened his palm, and his gun appeared in it. He gritted his teeth and worked his numbing fingers to shift the gun to point at the big guy. Gotta… get away…

“Enough.”

The word landed like a guillotine blade. So cold. So full of malice. So utterly devoid of any love for humanity that it made One-Shot nauseous. He whipped his head in the direction of the source despite his frantic effort to free himself. A blonde man with handsome features in a tight-fitted t-shirt, blue jeans, and brown boots. His lips were set in a thin, irritated line, and his small pupils promised unimaginable violence as he met the woman’s gaze.

Graff. That’s… that’s Graff. Special-Class. We are all dead. We are so dead. Everyone is dead.

Graff scowled. “Can’t get a fucking nap anywhere…” he muttered and raised a hand; something black collected over his palm before shrinking down into a single sparkling point. “You wanted a word? You’ve got twenty. Give me a reason not to turn your organs into ribbons.”

Felwinter grinned, glancing between One-Shot and Graff, and something like understanding glittered in her eyes. “The heroes will keep coming,” she said.

Graff narrowed his eyes. “Your point? I’ll just keep killing the ones that interrupt my quiet. Fifteen words.”

Felwinter raised an eyebrow. “Or you could have all the quiet you want, when humanity is gone.”

One-Shot felt all of the blood in his veins run cold. He opened his mouth to say something, but the sudden intensifying grip around his chest made him gag. Humanity gone? What the hell is she talking about? Is she insane? He tried to wrench his shoulders, tried to move, tried to pull his trigger, but his fingers were too numb at this point.

Graff stared at her for a long moment before speaking. “...Keep talking.”

Oh, god.

Felwinter chuckled. “Certainly! Just a moment though…” she purred and looked up, right into One-Shot’s terrified eyes. His senses that normally pricked with danger screamed bloody murder as she raised a finger. “...I don’t like eavesdroppers.”

The black needle flew.