>>5165057>>5165116>>5165183>>5165214The freezing wind has no mercy, screaming like a mad woman. Uncaring for your hunt or fire.
<span class="mu-r">"Death comes for all. But how can you deliver me death if the two of you flee like the cowards you are? No, since you run away and expose your backs, let me grant it to you."</span> The bile within you mind wished to be released, death was your attonemen. But it would wait, you wouldn't go alone into the long night.
<span class="mu-r">"Fool, It is done. Go find a hole to die in!"</span> The Wretch replies, voice filled with the tantalizing hints of fear and dread. It drove his madness, your shadow always hounding his.
He knew you wouldn't give up, he was already trying to escape…
<span class="mu-r">"Half Soul, if only you heard how she screamed. I'll show you why!"</span> The Brute coughed, the sound wet and heavy… Ir was disgusting, his core oozing the filth within his mind, you could feel all those weak and broken bodies twisting under his might. You feel them tremble against your flesh. Your fire consumes them, granting the poor souls the death they deserve. But those ghosts you feel are beyond saving.
<span class="mu-r">"Oh, I'll show you well, Half Soul."</span> The dead men flee further, their mocking barks calling out for you to give chase. Your fangs bare, it was time.
<span class="mu-r">She</span> would be avenged. They would die. Both of them. The pilots scattered like cockroaches, separating in different directions.
You wouldn't let them escape, reacting to your thoughts and without second prompting an new observer lens blinks into existence. Floating bound to a thin limbed body it peels itself away from your mechanical frame. You see your tattered form and it sets off. Through the snowstorm thin wings split the air as the scout drone follows The Brute. His odor is easily traceable. Your attention turns to the wretch first. You scan the snow fields, aware of the cowards love for tricks and traps. It isn't long into your chase when his tracks lead you into the cadaver of a factory. Blown out and half buried, your sensors pick up traces of explosives. Hastily planted in his desperate attempt. The snowfall is already covering the small explosives. You were sure he was around. Crouching low, you check your weapons.
