A fiery scream erupted nearby, shaking the dust and dismounting much of the room's wall decorations upon its emergence. It was almost instant; heat rushed into the inn and nearly overwhelmed the place in a cloak of black. Many of the lodgers were startled by the explosion and instantly fled in fear of seeing a colossal fire emerging from one of the nearby buildings.

The flame brought stinging smog to the inn; the scent's first contact with Rook's nose caused the boy to jolt out of sleep. He ran to Euphemia's bed, but the cleric was nowhere to be found. Clashing steel, gunfire, and pained screams drew closer to the now-deserted lodgings; Rook could see shadows fleeing from the sight of what seemed to be heavily-built men with glowing green eyes. The door downstairs was kicked open; curses and heavy breathing of those who broke into the building echoed on the ground floor. Grating noises of wood and steel being dragged on the floor filled his ears for a few moments; it was as if those who fled to the inn barricaded the main door from whoever was pursuing them.

"Damn! Wh-wh-what are those things?" a man managed to sputter words while catching his breath.

"I swear I shot that thing on the head." Another man spoke; the tinkling of tiny metal objects suggested that he was reloading (or was having difficulty in doing so) what weapon he held. "My- my bullets bounced off that creep. I can't believe it."

"Whatever it is, we'll kill it when it gets too close." The sound of metal sliding out of leather came right after a third person spoke.

"It's coming!" cried a fourth member of the runaways.

Something heavy smashed through the door; Rook imagined that splinters and other broken parts burst towards the awaiting four men. Euphemia, who appeared out from the darkness, stood beside Rook when the first exchange of gunfire between the runaways and their unknown hunter erupted.

"Rook, what is going..." the boy's hand shot forward to cover Euphemia's lips, and his actions called in at the right time.

The struggle was starting to turn against the men right after fast gunshots were unleashed at them. Curses and cries called out their deaths; the thuds of falling bodies marked the end of their resistance. Euphemia's voice tried forcing itself out of Rook's hand; the shock was too much for her to handle. Rook could feel her tremble underneath her habit.

"We have to get out of here."Rook pulled Euphemia's arm towards the inn's back end. "Whoever or whatever killed them is still in this place."

Neither could understand how this resting place became the scene of a murder, but both had the presence of mind to lift their legs and start running out of the inn. Their footsteps quickly became the lead of whatever was downstairs - there were people still inside the building. Bullets punched through the floorboards; bits and fibers of wood flew at random places. Rook managed to step back just in time to watch a bullet that was meant for him punch through the ceiling. They reached a corner of the place where the two were made to choose between the staircase beside them, or the window right in front. Slow, droning sounds of what could be metallic feet were heard below them, and it was closing in on the stairs with each moment.

"Can you jump?"Rook opened the window and looked down; an empty alley pointed the way out of the premises. "It's not high. It'll be easy."

It looked low, perhaps two and a half times Euphemia's height. It was almost a clear but narrow stretch of space, save for the few waste cans that lay near the exits. Rook jumped ahead and surveyed both ends of the alley. His way down looked easy, but then Euphemia knew that his legs were more accustomed to such activities than hers. There were two risks: one was the probability of Euphemia being unable to run or even move if she did a bad jump, and the other was certain death from the unseen hunter downstairs should she not act at all. Rook was waiting for her below, and all she could do was to trust that this boy knew what he was doing.

Her right leg dangled in midair, but Euphemia had to guide the skirt and veil to go through the window. Both legs were now stepping at empty space. Should she sprain herself in the fall, she could at least walk to be less of a nuisance.

"Quickly!" Rook's arms opened wide. He was there to break her fall after all.

Euphemia closed her eyes and allowed her weight to guide her downward. Her feet stood firmly on the road; she felt nothing else but the strong shaking of her feet that traveled all the way to her head. The cleric saw Rook supporting her frame. No wonder the impact did not even make her stoop to the ground.

"I'm... I am sorry." Euphemia's face shrank to the darkness of her veil. "It is the first time I have to jump like this."

"Let's go." Rook took Euphemia by the arm and led her out of the alley. The last thing they saw was a large metal claw crushing the inn's backdoor with its force. A pair of glowing green eyes bore in on them after its weapon limb was lifted out of the shattered door. They did not bother to exchange glances with their pursuer and fled the inn for good.

It saw them, and they had to run. There was no clear destination, as long as that killer could no longer give chase to them. They made turns away from wherever gunfire could be heard; their instincts to survive rested solely on their legs. Little did they know that they were being drawn to where the sounds of battle and the scent of feasting flames were at their strongest.

They made a turn on an alley and saw three gunmen in ragged clothes fire at an unseen enemy. Their rifles only sounded once; their bodies fell like sacks of meat after opposing bullets struck them in response. Euphemia gasped at the sight of death, but Rook pulled her out of the scene before what killed those men would decide to set their sights on them.

Finally, there was nowhere for them to run; Rook and Euphemia stopped by what seemed to be a small square situated near the northwest end of Altrecht's walls. The large section of the imposing structure would also serve as the biggest hindrance to their freedom. Footsteps were heard coming in their direction, and Rook and Euphemia hid behind a stack of crates just in time to see three shadows heading where they hid. The light revealed their lack of uniforms – brigands who were panting while staring at the path where they came.

"Those things... took out Ping's group."

"What kind of madman would set loose these... creatures on us?"

"We... we have to h-hide, somewhere." The third man was shaking on his grip; his rifle almost fell off his hands. Something from the horizon completely froze him from where he stood. He muttered, "th-they're here!"

Four pairs of green eyes stared back at the men. Insect-like legs took the first steps into the light. The gleam of their metal bodies told of a foreboding death to those who would face them. Despair took over their minds, and their fear of dying to the hunters led the men to lunge forward. Battle cries turned into death screams as they were gunned down and left slumping on the ground. Euphemia couldn't hold herself from shaking after hearing the short bursts that took those men's lives.

They would be next, Rook thought. It wouldn't take long before these metal-clad killers would pick up on their hiding place and finish them off. Something has to be done. They marched into their own trap, with the only way out blocked by three of the armored gunners. Rook could hear their footsteps moving around; the pumping squeaks made by their legs drew closer to where they hid.

"Euphemia, you have to get out of here." Rook's hands dug into the cleric's shoulders. She couldn't look back at him first but her eyes managed to look up his head moments later.

"But what about you?" she was shaking from inside, but the fear did not seem to affect her speech that badly.

"I'll... find my way out." The boy drew out his revolver and looked at its cylinders. Six shots on four targets – they weren't much of an advantage. "I'll keep them busy long enough so that you can run away from here."

"I-I'll get help. Please stay alive."

He couldn't assure Euphemia of being alive in the face of these enemies. Rook saw them wipe out armed men without flinching, but he had to at least divert them somehow. He poised his legs to spring out of the barrier of crates without even bothering to look back at Euphemia. Perhaps his wandering would be brought to an abrupt end here.

One.

Two.

Three.

Rook leaped out of the barricade, took aim, and struck one of the metallic gunners by the head. His bullet bounced off the helmet while they managed to let go of three shots before he could hit the ground. Rook rolled away from the bullets' path and got to his feet right before the armored killers strafed the earth with gunfire.

"No good." Rook broke into a run, where the four enemies pivoted their bodies to follow his movement. Bullets flew towards him in failed attempts to connect to his body; bits of stone wall made small eruptions when a projectile lodged onto the unfortunate structures.

It was odd. Normal gunners would have run towards their target or even farther away to take a good shot, but these armored men did not move from where they stood. Their bodies followed a mechanical pivot that started with their torsos, followed by their legs once their joints could not keep up with the angles. Rook wasted four more shots that ricocheted on impact. Metal plates that protected their bodies were too smooth and tough for his bullets to go through. Rook kept moving around the four, ducking and sliding away from each round they fired at him.

"This is futile." a voice echoed in his head; its volume and echo belonged to what seemed to be a large man. "You'd be tired with all this and these machines would finally catch up to you."

"Wait. What? Machines?"

"What else would they be, Boy?" A second speaker took over; his voice raspy and sneering, much like an old man's. "Their legs should have given that away."

"Who are you? What are you?"

"We are part of you, and yet we are not." A third speaker emerged. He sounded like one in his prime but was toned down compared to the other two.

"Where are you? I can't see you. Why are you messing around in my head?" Rook wasn't able to keep the thoughts to himself. He stopped at the right moment to hear a bullet meant for his knee whizz past.

"You won't find us anywhere. We are inside of you." The fourth voice had a proud and commanding appeal; his few words faded from the recesses of Rook's mind.

"Get out of my head! This isn't the right time to be imagining things."

"Why not get a feel of what you can really do?" All four voices spoke at once.

Something entered his mind like a pinprick - a wave that made Rook lose sight for a split second. His eyes were seeing things in an entirely different light. The world slightly dimmed, but the machine-men who were out to kill him displayed a myriad of colors. At the center of their chests were misshapen white orbs.

Rook felt faster with each step. He managed to anticipate when the guns would expel another round towards him; his dodges weren't generating fatigue at all. He got to one of the enemies' backs, where the colors and the glow of the white core were at their brightest. A second revolver was pulled out of his coat.

"Aim true for the heart," the bold voice told Rook. "Then you will be the better of them."

A shot was fired; the bullet flew and melted through the enemy's back. The round struck the white core and triggered a wave of red from within. Fire forced itself out of the mechanical man's shoulders and elbows until an orange and yellow tongue burst from the head. The humanoid machine fell down facefirst in loud clattering.

Rook then had the courage to defeat the three remaining machines. He charged at them, leaping and rolling forward as he dodged the bullets that were sent to intercept him. He leaped and got hold of one of the machines by the shoulder, and from there Rook positioned the pistol to fire point-blank at the back. The boy took the air just in time to see the second mechanical gunman burn into another scrap heap. Rook landed right next to the third gunner and managed to gain enough momentum to roll to the machine up-front. It went for the boy with its claw weapon but missed; Rook used the delay brought by the enemy pulling its weapon off the ground to deliver a couple of bullets to its back. The resulting explosion blew away a section of the rear plate before the machine lay flat on the ground.

"There's one left."

The last of the attackers expended more rounds at the boy without scoring a hit; Rook's reflexes managed to predict where the bullets would land and evade their paths with little effort. A downward swipe from the claw was lowered when he was too close for the gun to be effectively used. The strike missed, with the machine's movements being easily readable by its human opponent. Rook lodged the last two bullets at his opponent's back and watched the mechanical killer go up in flames.

"That's the last of them, I hope."

A scream echoed northeast of where Rook was; he knew who that voice was. Rook rushed to open street to find Euphemia against the wall; another team of four constructs approached her. Gun arms were aimed at the frozen cleric by the time the darkness could not deceive his eyes any longer. The boy ran with all the speed he could muster, hoping that he could get Euphemia out of danger in time.

Four shots rang in the air.

Rook managed to jump and push the cleric out of the way. Euphemia landed sitting on the road. She was out of harm's way, but Rook was not fortunate enough to dodge the bullets. Three of the rounds went through his body; their impact threw Rook against the wall. Blood began rushing out of his chest and stomach; heavy red blots started forming on his clothes.

"S-s-s-sor-rry... Euph... emia." Rook slid on his back to the ground; consciousness began to drip away with the blood he was losing. His eyes caught a glimpse of the cleric running towards him before he lost the strength to keep them open.

"ROOK! NO!"