Yeah, I feel like continuing now, I also have a pretty good feeling that a good portion of you, my good readers, will be surprised with what will happen in the near future.

Mark trekked above the dry mountains of the game preserve. Just as he had done for the past few months.

The silence was a problem, it was only going to make him more focused on the noises that kept tormenting him.

He still heard the shrieking and screaming, the cold, boney hands running down his back, the sharp tail blades that would slowly be dragged over his skin.

Mark was constantly in the hive, he now lived in it. His mind was a prisoner of it.

He couldn't stop it, he was completely helpless.

And that gnawed away at his mental fortitude.

The walls that he had raised were cracking, crumbling down no matter how hard he tried to restore and repair them. He hated himself for being so weak.

So he tried to cut himself off from the rest of the world, from his feelings, from his emotions... they were only a weakness that served to render him vulnerable.

There was no easy path in this life, not his especially. Cold natured pragmatism would forever be favored as opposed to the delicate and fragile compass of a lively personality. That was weakness, he was weak.

"My god, the landscape is atrocious to look at, but the sky, wow. It certainly resembles that from Earth, wouldn't you agree?" beside him, was Mark.

The other Mark.

This one was beautiful: his body was completely bare of any and all scars that he possessed, hell he even had his eye back and was dressed in jeans and a long black trench coat.

He looked over at him and chuckled, "Come on now, I get that you're a fucking freak of nature, but even you must have a sense of humor. Let out a laugh, drink a beer, hang out with the other navy seals." he stopped, faking guilt, "Oh, sorry! Good lord am I slow minded, you're not human anymore!"

Mark ignored him, pushing himself to walk forward, on and on until he would be unable to.

He was still dressed in his full armor, but it was tinted a yellowish green, the same color as the acid of the kiande amedha. It was like he had bathed in a pool filled with the blood of the serpents.

So was his katana, which had all but lost its grey coloring. Mark had lost count of the amount of serpents that he had slain with the blade. After a while, the figures just blurred together.

Heavy, black bags were present under his eyes. It had been weeks since he last slept, and his every waking moment was spent fighting a vicious battle to prevent his exhaustion from taking over.

But even he wasn't perfect, and there were times in which he would be forced to rest. But the hybrid would still remain awake, weary of the hissing, always on guard for an imminent attack.

That was all that he heard nowadays. It was with with, constantly, and it was slowly driving him insane.

Mark had been on this planet for the over a year now, and it was known to be one of the most dangerous game reserves due to the immense number of hives present.

He had cleansed many of them, purging them and raising them to the ground amidst plasma bolts and explosives. Mark only took the skulls of the queens, and now, he had recently retrieved the skull of an empress. It had become his new centerpiece, his most prized possession.

And then he had repeated the process again again, acquiring two more skulls. He fed off the meat of the kiande amedha. It tasted horrible, revolting even, but he did not complain. At least the food contained enough nutrients to fully support him. Drying it was a tedious chore though, and it took much time to remove all of the acid blood.

"Will you sleep? Come on, just close your eyes for a little bit, there as such good dreams to have in the hive." the other one taunted him, as he sat cross legged next to himself.

Mark was silent, and he had had enough. He unclasped his gauntlet, first the right one and then his left. "This again? How incredibly disappointing, and here I thought that you were supposed to be the better one, and this is your answer to my nagging. You are weak."

The elite cut himself, driving the knife on the edge of his arm as bright, red blood fell from the cut. He made cross cuts on his arm, barely flinching every time the sharp metal would pierce into his skin.

This was the only way in which he could send the other away. His two limbs were littered with these whiteish cuts, and each day more were added, and more were reopened as they were still fresh.

Having given his left arm the same treatment, Mark fought to keep his hands still, but they just wouldn't stop trembling. 'Damn it! Hold still!' he ordered himself, increasing the force of his grip on the knife but it was still shaking.

With an angered snarl he planted it into the ground, all the way to the hilt, that was how much desperation he felt.

Mark placed his hands together, trying to keep his body still and ignore the increasing pain. He could only tolerate it for so long. The attention that the hurt brought him was enough to let him forget about the hissing and shrieking, and those became secondary noises.

Those were the only moments in which he could relax.

The other Mark was gone now, he was alone... at least for now. He let a couple of tears roll down his cheeks, he allowed himself to feel this one time. His throat became tight as he pushed back the hiccup that threatened to escape.

He was alone, he wanted the torment to end. Slowly, he gazed at the knife and removed it from the ground, trying to hold it properly as his hand violently shook. The hunter brought the sharp edge of the blade to his neck, letting it rest as he gathered the courage to slit it across his skin.

'Come on... COME ON! ' he screamed as he pressed the knife into his neck, the tip of tip poking into his flesh as a fine line of red trailed down from the hole.

But the went no further than that, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He didn't have the strength to.

His blue orbs were now red and slightly puffy, he still tried to contain his tears, gritting his teeth as saliva dribbled down his chin. Mark tried to keep it in, placing his head in his hands.

Mark tapped a few buttons on his wrist computer and the holographic image of Kyiv came up.

He looked at him, concerned, while the elite just returned his gaze with a blank, empty one.

"Kyiv, what is the issue? Is there another hive outbreak?" "No Mark, no. I called you like this because it is the only way in which you will answer my attempts to speak to you."

Mark's face didn't betray any of his feelings, but the annoyance was clear in his voice, "So there is no problem?" "No, there is not." "Then why are you calling me?"

The arbitrator sighed, "Mark, I saw your ship's location. You haven't left the planet for months, and your ship rarely lands and when it does it is for brief periods. That leads me to believe that you are willingly staying stranded on the game world."

His eyes narrowed, "And is that a problem?" "Given your prior experience during the Chiva- "That," he spoke with a clipped tone, "has nothing to do with this."

Kyiv stared at him, "I am trying to help you Mark, what you are doing, it is not good. I pray to Lilka that you remain safe." "Good, then please continue to do so." he ended the call right then and there and blocked Kyiv's contact, along with every other contact that he had listed.

He still couldn't get around the fact that he was still being tracked, and it was annoying. His issues were his issues and he was the one who was to deal with them. He did not need to place them on Kyiv or the others as well.

Having recovered enough energy, he got back up to his feet and began to walk some more.

All of a sudden, the mark on his shoulder blade began to burn, he gasped in surprise and removed all of armor that was present on the mark. He looked it over but nothing was wrong with it: its appearance was still the same.

'What was that?' he composed himself and began to walk, briefly turning around to make sure that there was nothing behind him. It was then that the mark actively burned again and he stopped in his tracks.

Confused, Mark twisted his torso, and realized that the mark would flare only when he was facing a certain direction to his right. He moved so that his entire body was pointing towards it, and the burning persisted though it was much more bearable now.

'It is... guiding me?' he began to trek in the direction and it felt as if the mark was humming, more and more as he proceeded forward.

'What is this? Is it... the gods?'

Mark did not know what to make of the religion, he had his serious doubts that the worshipped frites existed, but now this was unsettling him, as did the mysterious unknown figure that had appeared to him when the mark had formed, or the individual that had he had dreamed about when in stasis during his augmentation.

'What does this all mean...?'

He saw them, his new prey. He saw the Hish-Qu-Ten, the mortal enemies of the yautja. There were over thirty of them.

By their appearance, they were all warriors, and were carrying many weapons. They were not younglings, but experienced ones. Their kill gland would be an issue, especially in their numbers.

They were large, larger than the average yautja in fact, standing at eight feet tall; but Mark was nine feet, and the yautja of the Fire Skull clan were bigger than the average. He would have the advantage in strength, unless they allowed the urges of the kill gland to take their effects.

Still, the Hish-Qu-Ten had built their technology on the backs of other species, and it was inferior to the yautja's. That was why his cloaking wasn't noticed when he stalked the furthest one from the group and stabbed it through the heart.

Mark picked them off one by one, either by taking them down up close or sniping them with his bow.

The tungsten alloy arrowheads held devastating power, and he was glad of that.

Still, he set up traps and the to did their job in thinning out their lines.

Twenty remained, and by now they were grouped together, having realized that there was an enemy.

The leader of the battalion was not expecting him to drop on him from above, and so he could do nothing as his katana chopped his head off.

The others turned with roars, aiming to kill him, but Mark had already stabbed the nearest enemy through the face and had pierced the neck of another, and then his plasma caster came alive and it was hell.

In the confusion, many stepped on his traps and more explosives were set off, stunning and blinding the aliens.

Mark calmly walked over from opponent to opponent, killing them with precision as he sliced through their bodies with powerful strikes, systematically and mercilessly killing them.

It was chaos, and the elite reveled in it. He was death incarnate.

As he was finishing off another one, the last of them charged forward and grasped his arms, knocking his katana out of hand.

The kill gland was active, giving him more strength.

Mark wordlessly battled against him, pushing with all of his strength as they fought for dominance.

But slowly, he began to overpower him, even as the Hish roared and struggled more. In a flash he let go of the arm he was holding and struck the hish in the face, his metal gauntlets shattering the front of the mask.

And then he was on him, forcing him to the ground as pushed his hands against his face, and then, he gouged out the Hish's eyes with his thumbs, causing it to roar in agony.

Mark growled with fury as he struck the vulnerable head of his opponent, driving his fists into its face, harder and harder as blood dripped from his knuckles.

With a final savage yell, he crushed its brain, turning it to mush. Nothing remained of his head: it was a green lump of flesh and bone. Mark breathed out, sitting back on his haunches.

He looked over to the archaic computer on his arm and retrieved, opening it up. It was far to easy to break through the security measures, and when he did he found out of the location of the fleet of ships.

The hybrid turned his head to look at the sky, where the fleet was waiting on standby.

It seemed as if he had been led on another hunt...

New chapter, let's go!

Now I wrote this in under an hour and a half, so there may be some grammatical errors. So yeah, the hish are here. I am sprinkling bits of foreshadowing here, so do tell of the theories you have in mind, regarding Mark's mental state, the whole mystery with Cetanu's mark and the introduction of the hish.

Until next time.