The air was crisp from the late evening frost, and a beast limped in an amply fast pace through the forest. Thick mists of breath formed around her nostrils. In the distance the sounds of barking hounds and their controllers, hunted her down. Her long quills from the head down to the spine vibrate violently, but she did not need her powers to tell that bloodlust was thick in the forest all around her. That was why she needed to leave before they closed out any opportunities to do so.

Bramble bushes stirred and from them pounced one of the deviled creatures. Mutated animals with fangs as long as a sabertooth, and a breath matching the horrid appearances. Without hesitation the animal burrowed its fangs into her arm, attempting to rip them from her socket. For an ordinary human, they would have immediately dismembered. She was not ordinary.

Her instincts immediately kicked in and her skin hardened, her hair strands thickened and formed stronger quills. The hound’s teeth were no more than an obnoxious bee sting in comparison to a normal human. With a wide arcing swing, the latched dog to her arm was swung behind her but did not let go even though the air was knocked out from its lungs. She rolled over it, stabbing it with her numerous hair quills. It was killed.

“Demi!” The animal’s controller hollered behind him, grabbing the attention of the many other hunters.

She immediately kicked up a storm and strode off in three limbs, with one of her limbs still limp from the earlier encounter. A thundering pop exploded from behind her, the same instinct she swerved out of the projectiles way. The ground where she stood an instant before was now a gaping crater of two meters. This did not faze her for a moment, for where she stood was also crater next to the crater from before. The forest was set ablaze in a lightshow, craters and debris peppered wherever she dodged.

The hounds were the least of her worries, those hunters were the real problem. If it were just maybe a dozen, she could have perhaps handled them. Being that there was an army, any hope of taking them head-on was a mute plan. That is if it was taken into consideration the kind of monster they have been hunting.

“Hold your fire!” One of the hunters held their hands up.

She snarled as she pounced on the hunter, now they were the hunted. His breath was taken away, but her blow on his chest was not enough to kill him. She was not trying her hardest, but most certainly was not holding back. But death was inevitable, a quick series of pummeling punches cracked through an exoskeleton suit. Another necessary death.

“Bravo Red down!”

These hunters did not stop in their tracks, they took advantage of the fact that now they had her surrounded. The same crater impact guns used earlier were now on her, and without hesitation they let loose a barrage of explosions on her. Forming a deep hole, they kept on firing until there remained nothing but the ashes of her corpse. They waited until the dust subsided several meters deep to confirm the termination of their quarry. From the pit, the form of the creature swooped straight atop of the unsuspecting hunter. Another death. And in a split second, seven others followed suit.

A brave one ran up to her, and barreled her against. Her skin absorbed his blows, but something was wrong. Pain was coursing through her body. His fist glowed a mesmerizing blue, for a moment she was distracted until her conscious mind had caught up to the subconscious. She jumped unto the tree she was backed into, forcing herself up the limbs to get to some sort of relative safety. That was until the tree shook and fell to the ground, pinning her to the earth.

“I should have listened to the old man, should’ve been a lumberjack.”

The brave soul stood over her as she struggled to get out. All of the hunters now had her surrounded with their weapons trained on her.

“There’s no place for demi’s in this world, that’s why they hire guys like us to take out the trash like you.” His scornful eyes burned, there was so much hate that she almost felt pity for him. But her primal instincts took over her mind.

“So that makes you an over-glorified trash man.” Rumbled her coarse voice.

“Huh, the trash has a sense of humor. But trash is still trash, so good-bye to you.”

He cracked his knuckles before swinging his arm back to strike a blow cleanly on her head. She was very familiar with the technology, and that blow will certainly turn her insides into mush. Killing her in the process. Instead of accepting her defeat, her motor skills took control of her actions. She opened her jaws wide and bit his hand, the exoskeleton glove prevented his hand from being torn off.

Her to-be assassin grinned. “Checkmate.”

A deafening explosion popped from beneath the tree, spraying the soldiers on top of the trunk and behind with splintering debris that penetrated their armor, sending them crying in pain as they struggled to get the shrapnels out of them. The man who had his fist in the beast's mouth had his own issues to worry about, he desperately tried to get his fist out.

The technicians said the cursed armor should 100% hold, if I survive this, I am having their heads on a platter!

The armor crunched beneath the pressure and soon after his hand’s bones crunched, now he was the one hollering in pain. The remaining men recollected their senses and picked up their weapons again to gun down their prey. She did wait for a moment longer than she had to, without ever letting go of the man's hand, she wormed herself out of the pin to the ground.

“Shoot her! Shoot her, you miscreants!”

Sufficiently free from the tree trap, she let go of the hand without having any further need for it. Darting straight out of the carnage, hope of escape was at last possible. But the escape was not that simple, though, not as if her life ever had been. It cost her right leg, leaving her one limb short.

The carnage and battling continued for several days, leading her further and further north. Where the cold made it difficult for them to continue their chase, their efforts started to falter until finally one day their scents were gone altogether. She did not lower her guard until four days had passed.

For the first time after an entire week of bloodshed, she was free from their grips. Her skin softened and her eyes mellowed, her appearance had returned to that of a normal person. Ragged garments draped over her body, and steam was let off from all of the contained heat. Taking deep breaths, she relaxed as her body transitioned back to what one would call normal. With the exception of her stubbed knee. Certain that death was well over the horizon, she even relaxed her quill like hair. The hundreds of quills reverted to beautifully long strands of hair, glistening from the dawn sky. Fair skin reflected the rays of light, defining her cheekbones and slim form.

A sigh of relief.

Sleep took hold of the tired out body, and an entire day went by before she awoke. But not by choice. Her master had summoned her attention. Immediately she fell to her knees, unwilling to even lift her head even though his physical body was thousands of miles away.

You’ve made quite the mess Grusha. His voice was crisp, deceptively calm. But there was a chill that went along with it, anytime someone’s actual name was used by him it spelled trouble.

“The skortos had no reason to be there.”

Regardless, the Foundation is requesting your dead body, your head on a platter to be precise.

“Or else what? We have the strength they need, the strength they desire and revile. I am their destruction and salvation. There is nothing they can do to stop me.”

Almost nothing. A key difference between absolutes and ‘almost’. They’ve threatened war Grusha, and to prove their point, Highlander, Asterix and Spore were executed. Their heads were sent back to us on a platter.

She growled into the ground, they called her an animal but their actions reflect their personal animal side.

“Let them come! If a war is what they want, then I’ll tear them all to shreds with my own two bare hands.”

Funny, no mention of two legs. Humor aside, despite that you could ‘potentially’ hold your own against an entire country, you forget there are many of us who do equate in your levels of tenacity, and most importantly, power. Intimidation does not work with them, after all, they are the ones who made us into the war machines that we’ve come to be now.

“Skorto! You can’t hand me over, I’m your most overwhelmingly valuable asset. Without me, you have no bargaining chips for their table of pooker.”

It’s pronounced as poker, Grusha. Secondly, you are not my most valuable asset. You’re just a tool, a tool is only as useful as the user. That is I. You have no merits to your own thoughts, I am in the sole compass you rely on. If the tool ceases to be useful, or a newer and more optimal tool comes along, or if that tool breaks, it will be replaced. Not can. ‘Will’ be replaced.

Grusha’s hair began to quill up again, sensing the threat in his tone.

“Will there be war? Or will there be my head?”

I am sorry, Grusha, but your usefulness has expired. This is good-bye, but you will not be forgotten. Your contributions will forever be remembered.

Sparks began to ignite the foliage in the ground beneath her, electricity coursing through her whole being. For the second time in recent memory, she experienced pain. Her instincts began to kick in, but the only commands her mind came up with was banging her head against a boulder nearby. Within minutes, the powerful electricity knocked her unconscious. Sending her into the blissful sleep of death.