The sniper expelled the empty shell from the bolt-action sniper rifle with one fluid motion, and then turned her attention towards the remaining Flesh-eater, who approached cracking his knuckles with one hand and grasping at a large sword carried on his back.

The sniper smiled. She enjoyed the rush of combat.

The Flesh-eater shook his head and pulled a large serrated knife from his leather holster at his waist.

Standing directly in front of the young girl, the Flesh-eater smirked, and smacked his lips while examining her face.

The girl wore thick yellow paint on her face. The paint completely covered her forehead and reached down past her bottom eyelids.

"Covering up Mirra's signature with yellow paint, are you?... The Mark of the Sun ain't gonna protect you from us... Not from what I'm gonna do to yeah," laughed the bandit, "Can't wait to see Mirra's face when I bring back that head of yours," spoke the Flesh-eater, gesturing to the sniper by licking his lips.

The sniper took a step backwards with her right foot, as the Flesh-eater drew a step forward with his left.

"Why do you fight for Mirra? Bloody Mirra has no love you- you're just a pawn," the girl responded, as she disarmed and swung her rifle over her shoulder using the chest strap and raised her hands up into a fighting stance.

"She will love me!" he screamed.

The Flesh-eater darted forward, lunging with the large serrated blade, as the girl paced two steps back.

The Flesh-eater continued his lunge- only missing the agile sniper by a hair and landing his arm between her right arm and chest.

The sniper pressed her arm against her chest, locking his arm and knife in place, and using his lunging momentum she turned sharply- charging him to the floor behind her, with her on top.

While holding the struggling Flesh-eater down the girl placed her rifle against the back of his head and without hesitation pulled the trigger point-blank, spraying his blood on herself and the painting the floor- killing him instantaneously.

The rifle jolted from the intense force of the recoil and became free of her tight grip.

The strap of the rifle slid off her shoulder causing the rifle to fall to the dusty floor beside her.

The sniper rose to her feet and began to survey the area for the final Flesh-eater and his shuttle-tank.

His tread marks led away from the factory.

He was in full flight.