Reverberations rumble through the island, swaying leaves of the trees composing the forest beneath the dark clouds. Even from a distance, the nonstop series of booms carry an intimate weight of danger, as even away from the combat the whole island had plummeted into a battlefield.

Amongst the waving trees, two distinct flashes of blue light spark, although concealed well by the cover of trees surrounding the anomalies.

Over where the flashes transpired, where they would normally only be grass and sticks, now presents a man in a black jacket beside a large series of tightly packed golden coils creating a barrel that stands upright.

At the destination, the coils begin recoiling, unwrapping the barrel which exposes two individuals, a woman dressed in a white oversized hoodie, and a man dressed in a large brown overcoat. Seeping back into their source, the golden coils are absorbed into a third individual secreted in the barrel, a woman adorned in a perfectly tailored black blazer.

All four now in the forest, they glance at their surroundings, immediately able to hear the echoes of violent thunder as the man in the overcoat glimpses at the sky while the woman in the blazer steps forward to observe the forest with keen green eyes.

Among the group, the woman in the white hoodie turns to the man in the black jacket, whose hood is down at first, initially facing away from the three as he too notes the situation. He then turns his head to gaze at the group through blue eyes, registering his own human face to them as a means of mental configuration.

Once all three notice him, he then silently grabs the back of his back hood and pulls it over his head, covering his white locks. His grip maintained, he maintains eye contact as black carbon fiber-esc material creeps up from the back of his head within the hood. Crawling by instating single fibers in a rapid process, the material covers his pale face until it completely veils his face in blackness.

A moment after, where his eyes once were manifests two parallelogram lenses that emit a dim azureus glow with streaks rising up the inner vertices of the lenses past the hood and rays declining down the outer vertices to the chin of the mask.

Upon eye contact post transfiguration, the woman in the hoodie turns her head away, struggling to stare the mask in the eyes. Her immediate distress is visible as her mouth fumbles in a desperate attempt to recollect herself, her hands closed into fists simultaneously.

Aware of the effect he had, the man speaks quietly through the distorted, inhuman module, acknowledging “I apologize, I understand you dislike my use of this mask, I likely should’ve mentioned my employment of it prior.”

Referred to, the woman in the hoodie turns back and empowers herself to stare the man back in the eyes. After a few seconds of gazing into the glowing mask, she sighs gently and assures, “This is your mission, I tagged along last second so I have no authority over your methods. You’re right that I don’t like it, but I won’t drag you down if it’s what you need, ‘Tempest’.” Her fists loosen before opening, managing to destress herself.

Kokei then grabs her own white hood and throws it over her head, decaled with cartoon sprinkles and icing textures. Her face remains exposed as any ordinary hood would, regardless she maintains the bare concealment.

Bemused by the seemingly negligible choice, the Tempest addresses, “Is there a reason for that?”

Kokei sways her head from side to side, justifying to herself “Same thing as you, just hiding my face so nobody knows it's me.”

Unamused, the Tempest glares back at her before revealing, “That likely won’t make a difference, facial recognition would work just fine even like that.”

A hmph releases from Kokei before she defensively feuds, “Well, I’m sorry I don’t have a fancy mask like yours to hide with, this is the best I can do! Besides, how does that even work, and wouldn’t it be awkward if you put that hood up in public without trying to expose yourself as the Tempest? I thought that was just a normal jacket to be honest~.”

First turning away to survey the setting and stepping forward to begin the mission, making sure this short exchange wouldn’t deter him from the task at hand, Tempest reminds “Stay focused, we can talk about that later…but no the mask doesn’t come from the jacket, and the hood doesn’t activate it, I do. Just, don’t talk too loud, we need to remain hidden.”

He then peers past a tall bush, carefully brushing it aside which provides him a view of the beach, allowing him to note the wall of black pods that block the entire shoreline, all of them sitting in the water, revealing that none of them were presently operated.

Further taking in the sight, the beach is a mixture of gold and red, as bodies both green and black litter the sand. Silver rectangular barricades lie in the sand, a few feet tall and long, some dented and others obliterated into a pile of fragments. Massive spikes protrude from the ground, some plunged into green bodies, raising their limp corpses off the ground. Other bodies are shriveled and contorted, charred, mutilated, filled with holes, and piled up on each other.

Tempted by the wordless reaction, Kokei brushes herself against the Tempest to also get a glimpse through the bush, to which her expression immediately fallens into dreadful shock. She shuts her mouth and covers it simultaneously as her cheeks bloat, and she sways her head to the side, unable to bear the sight the Tempest remains on.

Behind the two, Dana notices Kokei’s hefty reaction, immediately realizing what would cause her to so quickly be pushed to the verge of puking. She steps beside Kokei and gently places her arms on and behind her chest before slowly bending Kokei back, helping her to raise her head up to bear the response while gently instructing, “Please do your best to hold it in, it could make noise and leave behind a trace. There there, you’ll be alright.”

She then turns her head towards the Tempest before exhorting, “That bad?”

“The beach seems to have been cleared, so the first stage of the siege is complete. That also means the leader has likely already deployed, and may be in the forest. I had honestly planned to come sooner, but this won’t be too severe of a setback,” the Tempest reports in a calculated tone, not revealing even a fraction of the disgusted reaction Kokei had.

He steps back and cautiously moves the bush back into place before turning to face the three and lecturing, “The fights will be more spread out in the forest, which brings the disadvantage of them now covering more ground, but also alleviates the possibility of alerting their entire forces, which would be the worst outcome. We’ll need to move swiftly and carefully by my lead. You’ll likely find more corpses in worse conditions, and you may witness those murders. I know this may sound cruel and contradictory, but we are not to involve ourselves until my mark, even if it means letting people perish. I hope you all knew what you were signing up for, but if not we can send you back; this deployment point should remain safe and I’ll keep guard just in case. This is your last chance,” before he turns his gaze to Kokei.

After battling with her own demons, Kokei manages to gulp, which unbloats her cheeks. She then lowers her head to face the Tempest, acknowledging that the offer to depart was very much directed at her.

Instead, Kokei shakes her head, assuring “I’ve made my decision, and I’ll manage. I guess I’ll probably have to look away when that happens, but I can carry on.”

Her decision now solidified in stone, the Tempest nods his head understandingly to Kokei, and turns to face deeper into the forest. He begins taking steps into the forest, albeit his footsteps are entirely silent as if he weren’t genuinely placing physical feet on the ground but rather gliding through the forest like a phantom.

Trekking deeper into the island, the Tempest commands discreetly, “We’ll head towards the stronghold to intersect the convergence of the two leaders. Keep your steps and breathing as silent as possible, and remain near and on track.”

Behind him first follows Dana, trailed by Ekitai, and after reinforcing herself Kokei takes the path at the back, all three of them forming a line as they hike towards the source of the booms in the distance.

Above the group, flashes of orange light up between the trees ahead where the thunder strikes below the dark clouds. The entire island, which isn’t that vast comparatively so, is in essence an expansive forest bordered by the sea, lacking mountains and any other biomes. A small remote island concealed by its own nature, the perfect spot to contain the leader of an organization that’s managed to grow for years with minor hiccups.

Below the thick leaves that cover the island, the four hike past trees and bushes, led by the Tempest whose dim blue eyes stalk all that he can acquire on the ground. His knees are bent and his torso leans forward, lowering his body while maintaining adequate mobility.

Behind him, Dana supposes a similar stance, albeit her knees not bent as much and her torso not leaning as forward, for she wasn’t as well versed in stealth yet did her best to follow suit. After her, Ekitai has an attempted sneaking stance, although his tall body still makes him peak the most compared to the other three. Kokei has the advantage of height in this instance as she is nearly the lowest, although her form is beat out by the Tempest, nonetheless she still manages to conduct herself covertly with her hood still on for added cloaking.

While the Tempest’s full concentration remains on tracking and navigation, Ekitai behind Dana quietly implores, “Don’t you have a mask too? I remember from back in the house, why aren’t you also using it if you want to hide your face?”

Keeping pace, Dana tacitly expounds, “My cybernetic components are golden, so they’d stand out especially if something makes it shine. Maybe at the beach I would’ve blended in, but right now I guess the fancy royal aesthetic is more of a drawback. My casual attire is dark anyways so this works.”

Behind both of them, Kokei feebly panics, “Wait, is it bad that I’m wearing white then?? Shoot, I should’ve thought that through~.”

At the head of the herd, the Tempest modestly assures, “You’ll be fine if you follow my lead, and colors won’t matter if they hear us anyways,” discreetly commanding them to halt their interaction.

Just after the Tempest performs the lecture, he immediately halts and raises his right arm up, signaling the other three, who stop accordingly in intrigue.

His sights to the left of him, the Tempest notices that past the tree he’s beside, there appears to be a body in the black spandex suit laying in the ground with several holes in his chest, which is releasing a soft smoke. With the body laying on its back, the face can also be seen to be that of a woman, whose red hair rests on the grass.

Hiding behind the tree, the Tempest studies the body from afar, analyzing the corpse while the other three turn and notice, Kokei instantly turning her head away in disgust.

Concluding the analysis, the Tempest reports “Fresh corpse, about fifteen minutes ago. We’re getting close already,” before he turns his head forwards and continues hiking, leaving the body on the ground as he remains on his path. Dana follows him after he returns mobile, and behind her both Ekitai and Kokei walk with Kokei keeping her head facing away from the body.

Every minute down the trail, the booms become clearer, and the trees rustle more ferociously. As the group follows farther inside the forest, the booms become more distinctive with higher pitches that resemble gunfire, and unique sounds including the roar of flames and the crackles of electricity.

Greater clarity signified less proximity, and while the Tempest’s facial expressions are undisclosable – Dana, Ekitai, and Kokei all have dreadful faces, the weight of reality pressing down on them more. Even without having seen a single fighter in action, just the sounds alone are more than enough at describing the lethal dangers they pose, for the Tempest made no lie when describing this mission to be potentially fatal.

Time passes without reference, the four sneak trees and long bushes, battling fatigue as it’s felt as though they’ve walked for miles. This fatigue is most expressed in Ekitai, who drags his feet across the ground, but entirely absent in the Tempest, who moves swiftly as though he only began the journey.

Even with all the tall tales Ekitai’s referenced as himself being an adventurer, when the skills are put to the test in such arduous activities, the line of distinction is clearly drawn between him and the leader whom he saw as equal partners.

Mixed in the defined gunfire and vibrational whooshes, the sound of shouts becomes prominent, even though the roars of their tools overshadow their voices greatly. But not only, through the bushes that the Tempest leads the three through, orange flashes seep through the dense leaves. At last the Tempest stops, holding his arm out again, halting his three allies. He freezes for a moment, allowing them all to immerse themselves in the shouting and firing, wordlessly explaining that they’ve reached their first skirmish.

He then silently drifts forward to the end of the bush which neighbors another tree, and then behind said tree. He then cautiously leans past the tree, his eyes surveying the scene on the other side as his allies remain behind, trying to conceal their own sweat.

Within his perception, the Tempest observes the scene in the forest, where men in green fiber woven suits hide behind other trees, one hand free and another hand armed with a firearm which locks over their hand. Several of the firearms have vents along the side that expose an orange luminescence, the ammunition, with some having vents even at the barrel where the aperture resides.

Balls of flames and unnaturally large needles fly past the trees, nearly grazing the armed volunteers, who all take their own positions. Some however fail to find cover, as one of the volunteers farther back gets struck by one of the needles to the part of the mask covering the eye, to which he collapses to the ground with a short scream.

Scorched with the eternal image of their comrade’s horrific demise, several of the armed volunteers spin with a step to the side of the tree, giving them sight to which they raise their firearms and fire bursts of orange bolts.

Across from the Watchdogs is a unit of Exhumans dressed in their black spandex suits, many of which also cower behind trees while some are left exposed, one of which has their hand out aimed at where the pierced Watchdog was standing. Few of those exposed are met by the stream of orange bolts, burning holes into them before they slump on the reddened grass.

Retaliation back and forth, several Exhumans then reveal themselves from behind the trees with their own volley of icicles and rocks. One in particular curses out a phrase, the words of which manifest into blazing physical sign letters constructed out of a fiery energy which projects out of his mouth like fireballs, spelling out his speech which reverberates intensely: “LEAVE US!!”

The burning sign flies across the forest, striking one of the exposed Exhumans who immediately bursts into flames that consume him in seconds before leaving a charred corpse that vaporizes into ash.

Orange bolts and supernatural projectiles are tossed back and forth, and watching all of it is the Tempest, who stays beside the tree on the bounds of the combative lane. He then glances forward down his path, making mental marks of the trees by the bounds as he develops a tactic on the spot. He then turns back to face his allies behind before pointing forward, avoiding speech to remain undetected.

While the mere pointing gesture left Ekitai and Kokei perplexed, an elaboration is provided as the Tempest then faces ahead, and bends his legs. In a split second, the Tempest reappears four trees ahead, leaving a fading blue trail behind. He turns back to face the three before waving towards himself as a signal.

Provided with an example, now the trio understands the command, too noticing the series of trees planted conveniently for them to bounce from. Amidst the alternating fire past the bushes, Dana steps up to the tree at the end of the bush and glances swiftly beside it, confirming that the two squads were focused exclusively on each other.

She then turns back towards the Tempest, who gives her a nod. With a deep breath of air, she then lunges forward, and four shallow apertures agape on her back in a diamond formation, which then exert a faint blue burst. The burst propels Dana several feet forwards, allowing her to pass trees rapidly.

Arching back down, Dana lands on her feet right behind the third tree from the bush, right behind the Tempest’s. The four apertures enclose, covered by her black blazer, and she turns around to face the remaining two now that she’s made the jump.

Pressure remains hot on Generation S, as several Watchdogs move up the field, sprinting to trees ahead of them as other fellow comrades lay suppressive fire. Ground is quickly gained as the Watchdogs chase the Exhumans, running past orange barrages.

From behind a tree farther up, an Exhuman boldly tilts out of cover before throwing his right arm, chucking a handful of tiny rocks. Without any visible propulsion, the rocks accelerate forward in the air, defying physics to reach bullet speed in a second. Right as the rocks are thrown forwards, the Exhuman who hurled them is instantly met with a shower of bolts which cover his torso, and he drops to the ground in the brave act.

Racing in the air, several of the speeding rocks impact one of the sprinting Watchdogs, and with such immense speeds, the rocks penetrate straight through his chest. The Watchdog staggers forward before slumping right as he reaches a tree beside one of his comrades, who turns in horror to witness the shot volunteer.

After halting behind the tree, the accompanying Watchdog kneels and drags his fallen comrade by the arm behind the tree into cover. Sliding him to safety, the Watchdog then relinquishes his own firearm to free his hands so he can place both of them over the open wound gushing blood. He squeezes down on the body desperately as bolts and icicles fly past.

Perceptive to his fate, the man on the ground raises his right hand onto the side of his head and taps twice, which causes the green face-shaped mask to vaporize, exposing the man’s true face, which has the youthful resemblance of an older teenager. The teen stares at his comrade in the eyes with tears welled in his before he leans up and firmly grabs the comrade’s upper arm, holding him back before giving a strong nod.

The two stare at one another as hellfire is thrown back and forth, as an undesirable understanding is met between them, as the man relieves his comrade of the stress over his life. The teen’s eyes then shut as his grip over the Watchdog’s arm is released, and his head is gently lowered back against the grass.

Standing over the corpse, the Watchdog slowly moves his hand off the open wounds that cover his green suit red like the grass, his body shaking with the overwhelming grief as though the man was not merely a fellow fighter but rather someone closer to him on a personal level. He remains kneeled behind the tree over the deceased man as more Watchdogs race up the field to close space between them and the Exhumans.

Across the fire, Ekitai looms over the tree past the bushes, glancing over at the battle before returning his gaze to Dana and the Tempest. He then nods his head, prepared to make the jump as he is next.

Without any mobility enhancements or propulsion systems, Ekitai moves the best way he knows how with cautious, slow lunges and extended arms. He tilts his head at the Watchdogs as they get behind trees further up the forest before firing at the Exhumans ahead, maintaining pressure regardless of their dwindling numbers.

Slowly but surely, Ekitai creeps his way past the first tree ahead, and then up to the second tree. His long legs allow him to gain distance with every lunge, however his stature also makes him a large target exposed between trees, visible for any of the fighters who’d turn their heads over the course of what felt like hours but were only really about ten seconds.

He does eventually reach the tree second from the one bordering the bush, the one between Dana and the last one remaining for the one at the end of the line. He grins in self satisfaction, hiding behind the tree to now no longer be visible from the fighters’ position. It was a tedious and intense journey, but he made it to the other side.

On the tree beside the one hiding the fallen Watchdog, another fellow volunteer reaches cover, managing to also move up. He turns to face the grieving comrade before shouting over the battlefield, which alerts the comrade, who turns to face the volunteer.

At the same time, the other Watchdog who reached a tree up ahead, which is a few feet ahead of the other two, tilts out from behind the tree and fires a barrage of orange bolts in suppressive fire, allowing the final remaining Watchdog to bolt it for cover ahead with the rest of her squad.

On the other side however, an Exhuman also moves out from the tree’s protection, and projects a flurry of icicles. Right after he does, several orange bolts fly into his face, terminating him as he slips from his stand.

Satisfied with the elimination of an enemy, the Watchdog’s suppressive fire persists, knowing that there’s only one Exhuman left. However, what he doesn’t perceive at first are the icicles until one flies straight into his forehead, penetrating the mask.

Huffing with adrenaline coursing through her veins, the final remaining Watchdog makes her way to a tree right in sight without any occupants, carrying her long rifle as she catches up to her two fellow companions.

Without any suppressive fire to dissuade retaliation, the final Exhuman steps out from behind his tree, facing the running Watchdog and screaming “GO AWAY!” with the mouth that projects those very enraged words into blazing manifestations.

Just several feet from the shielding tree, the Watchdog gets struck by the phrase, incinerating her instantly into ashes that float in the wind.

Witnessing the brutal demise in his eyes, the man who was previously lecturing his ally becomes consumed in a burning rage, growling behind the mask as he diverts his attention to the last remaining enemy, and charges from out behind his cover, disregarding his own safety with a vengeful scream.

Spotting the hellbent Watchdog frantically running as though he’s abandoned all sense and intelligence, the final Exhuman gladly steps out of shelter and calmly approaches his enemy as he takes in a deep breath, preparing for an intense phrase to burn the hostile with.

A white shoe steps on a stick in the grass. It snaps in half.

Silence immediately follows the snap as the Watchdog’s scream abruptly cuts, and the Exhuman’s retribution is also postponed as his jaw hangs open, but he doesn’t let anything out. The two stop in their tracks, exposed to each other, yet neither attacks.

In that moment, they both lose attention to the skirmish, as that attention is redirected beside them, redirected to a girl in a white hoodie standing by a tree and bushes who turns her head to face them with a hung jaw.

The Watchdog stares through the green mask’s eyes, the concealed expression blank.

The Exhuman glares through his dark brown eyes with a look of agitation.

The girl gapes back through her pink eyes with an overwhelming petrification that floods through her pupils.

Simultaneously, the Exhuman and Watchdog turn to face the girl, and the Watchdog promptly raises his rifle’s barrel right between her eyes. The immediate aim causes her entire body to shiver as she’s frozen in place.

“Who are you?!” grills the Watchdog in an aggressive shout, befuddled by the unique attire as it matches neither his own nor the Generation S’s uniforms.

No verbal response is made, as the girl just stares back in terror.

“Tell me who you are, or I will put three rounds in you! Don’t test me!!” the Watchdog ragefully repeats, gripping his own firearm with his free hand to stabilize his aim.

But no response is given, the girl just continues to stare with the same face.

“Then off you go,” he decides before the vents on the Watchdog’s weapon flashes thrice, and three orange bolts of energy soar out of the barrel, straight at the immobile target. Her eyes shut and her face clenches to brace for the end.

A boom erupts. Darkness covers the girl. Tempestuous whooshes follow. Finally, a blaze roars.

In the complete darkness laid before death’s door, a voice speaks.

“You’ve made your choice,” threatens the voice, one that vaguely resembles a human male, although heavily distorted and artificially deepend with a greater echo.

The girl loosens her face and opens her eyes, her pink irises peering through tears that had swelled up. They then suddenly expand in astonishment, staring up at the source of the shield that protected her body. Her jaw drops as she struggles to find words, her body still shaking heavily from the fear of death.

In front of her stands the being in front of the armed shooter beside the Exhuman, entered when she wasn’t looking, standing below the dark clouds looming above the forest. Draped in the jaded black leather jacket, the being glares dead straight through the azureus parallelogram lenses on the carbon fiber black mask. Radiating brighter, it shines beams into the souls of both fighters, coiling its fingers around their beating hearts. Its arms stay by its side as it stands broad and straight like a wall, between Kokei and the two fighters.

Concurrently both the Exhuman and Watchdog stagger backwards, the Watchdog immediately lowering his weapon in shock. The Exhuman’s face is enveloped in terror as the Watchdog’s body begins shaking.

Baffled by his enemy’s apparent fear, the Exhuman taunts in a whisper, “What are you so shaky over, isn’t he with you?”

Confounded by his enemy’s apparent misinformation, the Watchdog contends in a jitter, “Huh, what are you talking about? He’s with you!”

Now even more entrenched in stupefaction, the two enemies turn to each other, exchanging glances of dread, for both of them have simultaneously received a revelation that shattered their entire world of thought, one so alien and unfitting to all truths they knew that it left them fumbling for thoughts.

Unsure of how to even act, the Exhuman gazes back at the image of his demon, whispering with a terrified tone, “No he isn’t…wait so he isn’t part of your group? Then…what is he-? Oh god…this isn’t happening…if he’s not with either of us then…what is he? No…he can’t be here…this doesn’t make sense…! We need to…-”

Out of pure defensive reaction out of the insanity they both are swarmed with, the Exhuman intakes a breath and the Watchdog raises his rifle to aim at the being both, temporarily displaced from their own conflict as a far greater one arisen, one that threatened the very basis of logic they’ve lived by for all these years.

Before either of the rival’s could make a move through the dense fog of disorientation, the being flips his wrists with its hands in firing position. Two flashes discharge from his hands, the left blue, the right black.

Both the Watchdog and Exhuman freeze up concurrently, and the Exhuman flashes black. The two then collapse on the grass in unison, each defeated side by side.

Seemingly having quelled the situation, the Tempest lowers his wrists and turns his head to face Kokei, who’s still startled by the sudden actions. He nods his head and checks, “You’re not hurt, right?”

After two blinks, Kokei looks up at the Tempest and shakes her head, shiveringly confirming, “No I’m not. Sorry about…screwing that up.”

Both Dana and Ekitai step out from behind the trees, seeing that the threat has been defeated, and glancing at Kokei after watching her go through the terrifying experience. Dana steps beside Kokei and pats her on the shoulder, understanding her guilt and hoping to alleviate it to the best of her ability while Ekitai approaches the Tempest’s side to view the scene.

A soft sigh releases from the Tempest before he assures, “It’s already happened, but it’s been dealt with so we’re still hidden. Come on, we should get back on track, the stronghold shouldn’t be too far anyways. Moving forward just check where you’re stepping, who knows if there are any leftover traps or mines laying around. Let’s go.” He then turns his body around to face the trees where they had been previously moving behind, ready to lead the group back.

Right as the Tempest takes one step back, Ekitai peers forward and slowly notices, “Wait…is that guy moving?”

In that very moment, the Tempest, Dana, and Kokei all pivot their heads to face the direction Ekitai’s observing.

Across from the group behind several of the trees, a movement of green does appear behind a tree. Centering focus on the entity, the four discern it to be a person in a Watchdog uniform, unarmed and moving intricately to avoid detection.

Upon being glanced at, he immediately stops, exchanging gazes with the four in, tuned into awkward silence, as none of the five react in that window of disbelief.

The Watchdog breaks into a sprint, swinging his arms as he bolts away from the group as fast as his legs can carry him.

First to react in the group, the Tempest spins his body around and pushes off the ground into a sprint, chasing after him in realizing their presence may have just been compromised.

Next, Ekitai stuffs his hand into the interior of his coat and unseals his handgun before taking off with the Tempest, huffing loudly as he too has to break into a run, trying to keep up with a man who's already proved himself more athletic.

Following, Dana becomes overwhelmed by embarrassment, realizing she’s been seen with her identity exposed out in the open, which reddens her face. Her second thought clarifies her head into the understanding that the group is in threat of being outed, which would badly detriment the mission, and thus they need all the help they can get.

Having been the first to join the operation, Dana steps forward, and her entire body morphs golden, concealing her face in the flat, blank mask. Her attire disappears, exposing her cybernetic form with the royal aesthetic of diamond fragments and golden streaks. She too races off, her footsteps heavier as she breathes through the heavily distorted electric voice, transformed for action.

Lastly, Kokei stands in place, processing all the events taking place one after another restlessly. She then blinks twice, now standing alone as the rest of the group chases after the Watchdog, realizing that now she’s failing to help remedy her own mistake. She believed that she desired adventure, but what she hadn’t even asked herself was if she was prepared for it again, and now that question was dropped on her body like a building.

Where had all that confidence gone? Where was all that persistence, that solid stance that she was ready to take on the deadliest of challenges? When she was put to the test, where was that woman who stood up and almost demanded she be dropped into a warzone?

Watching the three chase while she stands still, Kokei’s pink irises reflect her allies as she is chained to the ground by her own reservations, her own insecurities.

Leading the chase, the Tempest hones his focus on the stray Watchdog, watching him run away frantically like an escaping prey. The chasing predator observes the pattern until locking in his target, to which he dashes in a blue residue trail.

Running for his life, the Watchdog heaves as his hands thrash back and forth, knowing the demon right behind him. His heart pounding out of his chest as this surreal nightmare comes after him, he begins hectically summoning silver disks on his hands with blue flashes and dropping them without aim as they emit a green dot of light in the center.

Moving like a bullet, the blue trail tails the stray from behind. The trail passes right over one of the silver disks, to which the disk’s green light turns red and it releases the translucent purplish blue magnetic coils that tug the legs of the beast.

A burst of blue light erupts from the abrupt falter of the trail, revealing the Tempest fallen forward on the ground, stunned by the disks. Through the blue lenses, he immediately finds himself surrounded by an entire field of disks, and all their lights turn red as they project magnetic coils at him, wrapping around his arms and legs in surplus. He growls in agitation as he’s chained down by the countless disks which all pull him to the ground, forcing him on his knees into submission, far ahead from the rest of the group to receive immediate assistance.

He lowers his head at the ground in what can be assumed to be an admission of defeat, but that conclusion would only be respectable given an understood lack of insight. For as his head hangs low, his entire body begins radiating blue with such intensity that it resonates a deep hum from his body that reverberates through the trees. As all of the magnetic coils around him begin to flicker, he raises his head back up, the hunt foremost in mind.

Beyond the Tempest, the stray continues his escape, still summoning more disks as he burns through the supply reserved for the islanders without hesitation. He liters the grass with silver disks, dropping them by his feet without even taking a glimpse back.

Even if a few disks were to fail to capture the Tempest, the sheer quantity alone would be enough to hold him back more than long enough to reach another ally, or potentially even command himself. While fear still swamps the stray in sweat, part of him is relieved in knowing that his intuitive plan did seem promising and quite intelligent, as he had bested the mythic beast he’s only heard rumors of until now.

Eventually the stray does indeed empty his supply of magnetic traps, as he is no longer able to summon them. Having deployed his entire arsenal at once against a single target, the stray can’t help but acknowledge to himself that he used it for quite possibly the best situation. Now that his safety is secure, all he has to do is reach a fellow Watchdog.

While the stray runs, a large shadow drifts above him, moving at his same pace and covering him in darkness. At first the man ignores the shadow, figuring it to be a larger tree, however he notices the shadow’s shape remains constant as it remains looming right above him, which begins to plant doubt into his brain.

Even after passing several trees the same shadow remains above the man, debunking the idea of it being the shadow of leaves, and leaving room for more dreadful and sinister theories to creep into his mind, slowly infesting him once again with fear.

Unable to tolerate the likely overblown thoughts, the man raises his head to look at the source of the shadow himself, staring straight up. Above him in the trees, the stray finds himself staring up at the body of the Tempest, which glides through the trees with bursts of blue residue propelling him forward and projection cables constantly extending out of his body onto trees to reel him in his prey’s direction.

High up from the ground, the Tempest’s presence doesn’t trigger a single one of the magnetic traps, as the majority of the disks the stray had just thrown away remain behind, still lit green, indicating that they’ve yet to be triggered.

All the confidence the stray had melts as it dawns on him that he had indeed wasted all his traps, and now he was not at all safe but instead right in the clutches of the Tempest. No matter where he could run, he’d still be right under the beast’s grasp, as it’s now exclusively a matter of time before he’s taken out.

One blue cable projects at a downward angle, and anchors right on the stray’s back.

As the stray is sprinting towards a wall of bushes, he hears a roaring whoosh behind, to which he instinctively turns around in temptation. Right as he faces backwards, he witnesses the sight of the Tempest just a couple feet away, connected to him by a cable projected from the palm of the Tempest’s open hand which has curled fingers ready to catch.

No other cables extend from his body nor are there any bursts coming off him, as now his exclusive sole mode of transportation is his own target, reeling straight into his prey with nothing to hinder him. He stalks through the blue lenses, which cast a light that reflects off the stray’s mask, overwhelmed as if about to be set ablaze.

Crashing straight through the wall of bushes, the stray flies straight into the grass, sliding several feet and leaving a trail of dirt as his face is clenched by the hand of the Tempest, who kneels over the stray’s body, riding him through the dirt until he comes to a stop.

Softly groaning in pain, the stray helplessly lays on the ground, trying to summon any strength he has to get a chance to fend off the beast. He groans louder as he manifests more adrenaline, still having some fight left in him.

A flash of light cast from the Tempest’s hand immediately puts the stray to sleep, silencing him and reducing his body limp. The stray dealt with, the Tempest lets out a soft sigh of relief, as for a moment, the integrity of the mission seemed to be dire.

Recollected and ready to resume the operation from where the distraction occurred, the Tempest lifts himself off the stray’s body and raises his head back up to stare ahead of himself, ready to turn around to head back to the rest of the group.

That’s when the Tempest finds himself in a fairly open area of the forest, which is crowded by a horde of green Watchdogs and black Exhumans, who pause their skirmish to turn their attention onto the being. Watchdogs and Exhumans alike lower their arms from aiming at each other, infatuated by a new entity, one that they all saw in a common light: a threat.