Chapter 72: Severed |
Agent Kyle considered himself a man with relatively strong psychological resilience. He dared to overstep the Standard Operating Procedures and even had the courage to act as bait during operations. However, after walking underground for so long, so far away from the sky above, he found himself struggling to catch his breath, and the scar on his right hand itched intensely.
The journey had been unusually peaceful, yet this only forced Kyle to suppress his mounting fear with sheer agitation, desperately trying not to imagine the gruesome deaths of his squad members. They had encountered swarms of enemies right before getting separated. How were they doing now?
"Captain Holly?"
"Just call me Captain," the woman walking ahead of him suddenly stopped, causing Kyle to nearly crash right into her back. "Do you need a rest?"
"I think I might be getting a bit claustrophobic—"
"This place hardly counts as claustrophobic, rookie. Just imagine it as an ordinary room, and you will feel a lot better," she advised.
Despite her words, the Captain still halted and set down her heavy backpack, which was fully loaded with survival gear and ammunition, before dropping into a defensive stance. Whenever Kyle's mind wandered, he found himself imagining that there was a robot hidden beneath her visor—an entity that seemed to never tire and had no concept of low morale.
"We resume moving in five minutes," N4-1 declared.
After being forced to separate from the rest of the team, Kyle and the Captain had stumbled into a massive underground architectural complex. They passed through a dusty, unadorned Basement, a living room boasting ten different doors, and a Kitchen where the windows looked out only onto packed dirt and rubble. No matter how they altered their route or tried to change direction, every single door led only to deeper staircases and Corridors. The rooms seemed to align in an endless array, dragging them further and further underground.
Sweeping their Flashlights around like burglars breaking into a house, Kyle and the Captain stepped through each doorway, glancing in every direction, and paused to raise their guard whenever the ground trembled slightly.
They repeated this grueling process, continually pushing forward.
Another shared anomaly was the creeping spots on the walls. Spreading steadily as the temperature dropped and the depth increased, these blemishes eroded the rooms like mold, leaving the spaces as hazy and fractured as fading memories, reduced to nothing more than tangible outlines.
There were no monsters, no signs of their teammates, and absolutely no exits. This subterranean labyrinth allowed entry but offered no escape.
'Why?'
Kyle could not figure out how the Midnight Visitor had transformed into such a terrifying entity.
He admitted that he had made the mistake of rushing for results during his Reconnaissance Work, but the sheer scale of this subterranean structure did not seem like something an Anomaly responsible for a mere ten disappearances over the past few months could possibly create.
This place looked ancient, as if it harbored a very long history.
"Got another theory?" N4-1 prompted. "Don't hold back, just say it. You are the closest thing we have to a Containment Specialist here."
"There is a pattern to these spaces," Kyle muttered.
He brushed his hand over the vanity table he had used to rest his bag and ease his load. It had already been assimilated by the Black Mineral, but the triangular trademark on the corner of the mirror frame could still be felt. There had been a dining table from the exact same manufacturer in the previous room, both sporting a vintage design. He dismantled the layout in his mind, shifting the two windows to the same side and piecing them back together, only to realize that this was a humble dwelling composed of a bedroom and a Kitchen—a very common layout in this neighborhood.
"We are passing through a series of interconnected rooms, but their sequence is completely scrambled. The initial furniture arrangements were modern, but now this room has become retro, as if we are walking backward into older and older memories."
"That doesn't help us get out of here, Number 5. I have seen similar Hazard Items before. One was an entity capable of infinitely expanding architecture, creating furniture out of chaotic materials—like a wooden microwave or a jade bed. Understanding an Anomaly is inherently impossible. They don't adhere to science... Earthquake."
The tremors began once more.
The vibrations were much stronger this time, and the source felt dangerously close. The unease in Kyle's chest intensified.
He hopped off the edge of the vanity table.
"Sounds like a collapse caused by an explosion—it might be Number 2 and the others!" The Captain hoisted her bag onto her shoulders and strode purposefully toward the door leading to the epicenter of the quake.
Kyle had not yet fully recovered his combat readiness, but the Anomaly would not wait for him, and the rest of the team likely desperately needed fire support and intelligence.
He couldn't keep acting as dead weight.
"I'll take point," he insisted, bracing himself as he jogged past the Captain.
"Rookie, I have been in the Mobile Task Force longer than you have even been a Field—"
"I have received Military Training too," he interrupted.
With resolute focus, Kyle raised his Gun and pushed the door open, revealing a T-shaped stairwell just beyond the threshold.
He shined his Flashlight through the crack of the door to sweep the immediate area, then quickly pushed his way inside and advanced at a steady jog.
"Then you should know the consequences of disobeying orders," the Captain cursed, sprinting to keep up with him.
"Interior secure," Kyle announced.
He spoke far too soon.
Driven by immense pressure, people gradually lose their rationality. His desperate attempt to prove himself was incredibly reckless. He completely neglected the standard two-person tactical formation for clearing a T-shaped corridor during indoor combat. With the Captain still two paces behind him, he dashed past the corner, haphazardly sweeping the space behind the right wall with his light beam before pivoting sharply to the left.
Gunfire erupted abruptly.
It was a continuous volley of fully automatic fire, the deafening blasts overlapping into a tight roar.
'Did the Captain just open fire?'
He caught a glimpse of bullets tearing through the beam of light, streaking past his side and rocketing toward the right.
'Wasn't that direction supposed to be clear?'
Kyle lifted his own weapon, fully intending to provide suppressive fire, but his submachine gun suddenly felt unimaginably heavy. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't maintain his grip. He watched helplessly as the firearm plummeted to the floor, his right hand falling limply alongside it.
Driven by instinct, Kyle leaned forward, desperately wanting to retrieve his fallen weapon.
Right then, from the corner of his eye, he spotted the Scythe Monster.
The Captain was unleashing a hail of bullets at it.
The Black Stone had absorbed the ambient light, perfectly concealing the creature's silhouette behind the right-hand corner.
Now, its two scythe-like front limbs on the right side were locked in a crossed posture, clearly the aftermath of a devastating strike.
Holly surged forward, placing herself squarely between Kyle and the monster. Bullets tore through the Scythe Monster's torso, the sheer kinetic impact jerking it backward and to the side, sending a few droplets of fresh blood flying from its razor-sharp forelimbs.
'Blood?'
'Is the Captain injured?'
Seizing the momentary distraction, Kyle rolled away to avoid blocking her line of fire.
By the time he stabilized himself on the ground and intended to draw his sidearm to assist, the Captain had already lunged forward, delivering a brutal flying kick that pinned the Scythe Monster against the black wall. She unloaded half a Magazine into its slender torso, then followed up with a few extra shots to its head, ensuring it was dead beyond any doubt.
The battle had ignited in a fraction of a second and ended just in the blink of an eye.
The Captain whipped her head around to glare at Kyle.
The two of them spoke at the exact same time:
"Are you hurt?"
Kyle blinked in profound astonishment.
Strange. The Captain looked completely intact; she didn't appear injured in the slightest.
The very next words in his throat were meant to be, "Of course I am fine," but a sudden burst of agonizing pain shoved the words right back down into his lungs.
He shifted his gaze toward the source of the agony—his own right arm—only to discover that his hand was completely missing. Blood was geysering wildly from the severed stump at his wrist. Lowering his eyes, he realized that his severed right forearm was still tightly gripping the rear of his submachine gun, having fallen to the floor right alongside it.
Just moments ago, those two scythe-like appendages had scissored through his arm like literal blades, slicing cleanly through the armor plating and the soft padding of his Suit in an instant.
No wonder he couldn't hold onto his weapon.
"Arghhhh—!"
A tidal wave of excruciating pain washed over him. Kyle clutched his right arm, instinctively reaching to cover the bleeding stump. The Captain sprinted over and immediately drove an elbow into him to stop his flailing, forcefully hoisting his spurting right arm high into the air while her other hand frantically rummaged through her backpack for a First Aid Kit.
"Don't touch it!" she barked.
"Why? Why is it my right hand again?! Why?!" he shrieked.
"Stop moving! I need to apply a Tourniquet—hold still!"
As Holly tried to administer first aid, Kyle continued to thrash wildly, turning the life-saving effort into an outright wrestling match.
[! Unknown airborne particulates detected !]
The scanner on her Eyepiece activated automatically, highlighting the culprit for Holly. The toxic gas dissolving off the Scythe Monster's corpse was actively distorting the light. As the scanning lasers swept over the fumes, they outlined an impossibly dense cluster of glowing dots—an unknown substance never documented before.
The specialized Suit issued to the Pangolin unit was designed to completely isolate the wearer from the outside environment to prevent infection, but Kyle's Suit had already been compromised.
Misfortunes Never Come Singly. Deep within the right-hand corridor, multiple pinpricks of light began to gleam in the darkness...
"Fuck, we can't stay here!"
Holly discarded her backpack, shoved Kyle hard onto the floor, and pinned his feet with her own boots. Bending low, she yanked him up by his uninjured arm, hauling him flat across her back in a fireman's carry. Burdened by his weight, she sprinted wildly down the secure end of the corridor, desperately fleeing from the highly infectious particulates drifting through the air.
"Damn it, damn it, damn it! You shouldn't be here. This place is way out of your fucking league—stop thrashing around, I said hold still! Hang onto me!"
Kyle's increasingly feeble whimpers and Holly's relentless stream of curses blended together, echoing loudly down the dark passage, leaving a staccato trail of fresh blood splattered across the cold floor.
Amidst the utter chaos, neither of them noticed that Kyle's Communication Device had quietly lit up.