I WILL BEAT THIS! I HAVE TO GET BACK ONTO THE STATION!

Seeth clawed desperately towards Barru X as she slowly floated away from the station, twisting her body awkwardly. There was nothing to grab onto, no way to propel herself forward. The icy chill of the vacuum of space slowly felt its way into her front, while her back was lit with the brilliant orange glow of a nearby star, feeling slightly warmer in comparison.

She shut her eyes tight, clenching her fists and felt that sudden and abrupt coldness as she warped. Her eyes flickered open; she was closer to the station, but still not inside. Her lungs ached desperately; the shock and panic of her situation had sucked the air out of her almost immediately, and her time was running out.

Her eyes focused on a spaceport window on the station, hazy white light barely visible through its thick glass against the dull grey of Barru X’s exterior.

She blinked again, another wave of cold washed over her and the ache in her chest intensified… She felt a bump and reached out, opening her pained eyes to reveal she was just outside the window.

COME ON!

Seeth blinked once more, imagining herself in the station, standing on the floor with air in her chest, and felt another cold surge over her form.

Warmth suddenly tickled her skin, sending shivers up her arms and spine. She gasped loudly and collapsed to the floor, sucking in mouthfuls of dry station air through frost-covered lips. She flicked her bloodshot eyes around the room quickly, finding herself alone and in a seemingly unoccupied area of the station's office complex. Her heart was pounding in her chest. The thought of brushing so closely with such a tragic, silent death…

The moment Seeth stood, feet firm against the carpeted floor, she immediately warped again into a different part of the station; a power bank this time, surrounded by wires and glowing panels.

“AWH, FOR FUCK’S SAKE!”

But her frustration only made it worse.

She warped again and again, various rooms flickered past her vision like a picture reel, each too blurred and too fast to process. 

“A-Am I losing my mind?!?”

The power bank appeared in front of her again but the room felt… taller…? A near searing heat blasted her legs and faded as fast as it appeared. She glanced down and tried to twist around; her body was glitched, half buried into the floor. She seemed unharmed, but the floor and whatever was under it, certainly wasn’t…

Seeth warped out and appeared back in an office room, shaking slightly and bracing herself as she expected to shift again.This time she was able to pause and stand for more than a second without finding entirely new ground under her feet. She slowly untensed her body and relaxed her legs.

This is insane. I’m… teleporting? At least it seems to have stopped for now.

Her words were only half correct though; she walked forward, towards the door, but was only able to make it two strides before instantly landing back where she started.

She raised an eyebrow as the room shifted; the rush of cold was feeling more manageable now. Pausing for a brief second and bouncing on the spot for a second, she started walking towards the door again but, once more, she shifted back, unable to make it more than three steps.

I actually died and this is hell, isn’t it?

She grit her teeth, grinding them in her jaw and pressed forward, unfaltering in her pace but every time, she would teleport straight back to her starting position. She tried moving in different directions and at different speeds, but it appeared that she was confined to this three-by-three metre box of slightly scratchy office carpet under mellow lighting.

Her frustration began to build again, her eyes slanted like daggers as a splitting rage overtook her.

I AM NEEDED! I WILL NOT BE CONFINED TO A -

More coldness, followed by that sharp heat. But then, something new… An awful splattering noise, the sound of liquid dripping and wet things falling to the ground.

Blood…?

Seeth quickly checked herself over for injury, but she was fine. 

She was fine.

Seeth had warped into a hotel room. A quick look around showed her that someone had pushed a load of heavy furniture up against the door to barricade it. A pistol with half a human hand still curled around its grip laid against the floor, partially covered in blood and frost.

The alien gently brought her hands up to her face. The black rubber suit was now plastered thickly in gore and viscera, chunks of bone and flesh clung to her form. Her eyes flickered down her chest, and saw one end of a string of intestine, slung over the shoulder.

A lump like a fist stuck in her throat. She had taken lives before, but this… This?!

Whoever this was, they were gone. Reduced to chunks of meat and liquid, splattered all over her and the floor. The once cream carpet around her was soaking up the rich crimson, as if drinking it.

Guilt pushed into her heart as she looked down at the scene around her. 

“Fuck… I - I’m sorry. Shit… SHIT! I need to get control over this, now!”

As she uttered the words, it dawned on her that she had not teleported again, since… But, if anything, the fact that she’d had to reduce someone to mush before she was finally able to stop… It made her blood curl.

I - Is it over… Are we…

*

“You gotta lay off the pies, Diego. UGH!” Scyler huffed and puffed and he made his way down the main corridor and into the brig of the DA Strike-Craft, with an unconscious Diego slumped over his shoulders. He paused for a moment and awkwardly removed his helm, revealing his milky-white scales and cold blue eyes. He had a slightly eel-like muzzle despite the draconic heritage; no ears or hair, a single fin ran the length of his head and down his neck, coupled with a lean but athletic body.

Scyler wiped his brow of sweat and panted loudly. Locking heavy, square looking metal shackles around his prisoner’s wrists and feet, he heaved Diego up and placed him against the wall within the room. The mag locks clicked into place and Diego was left suspended, pinned cleanly by the many thousands of amps worth of electro-magnetic current running through the wall behind him.

“That ought to keep you locked up until we touch down.” Scyler took a step back and watched as the thin see-through film around Diego's head slowly moved in time with the male’s breathing. The collar was currently set to allow air in and out, minimally; he was still unconscious. Across from Diego, a small human male with wispy blonde hair and dressed in baggy, tattered clothes was pinned up in the same way, and was staring at Scyler with deep concern.

“Oh don't worry, you, we're almost there now! Just a little -”

Scyler's sentence was cut off as the door slid open behind him. He spun in surprise; aside from these two, he was sure he was the only person aboard the ship.

“J-Jace! What are you doing here?!” Scyler coughed out in surprise.

“That’s Chief-commander Koa to you.”

A large, muscular male draconic figure stepped into the sterile prison ward. He had a low, gruff voice, dark chocolate leathery skin with various black spots and tear-drop markings on his body and face, and mahogany eyes with a slight hint of cherry red in the clinical light of the room. His hair was black but greying slightly at the tips, slicked back and short. His slightly greying face plates gave him an older but wizened appearance, and right now, he was looking significantly unimpressed. He made eye contact with the stumbling white dragon, and then the prisoners behind him. Clad in a heavy chest plate and advanced scale male armour across his limbs and legs, he glared down at Scyler again upon seeing Diego's unconscious form on the wall.

“I need you to explain what is going on here. Now.” Jace’s voice was stern and authoritative, his steel-like gaze focused onto Scyler's smaller, pale form.

“I am completing my mission objectives.” He replied, eyes narrowing.

“Really? Explain to me how two assault craft full of DA soldiers leave the hangar, but only you come back?”

“I -”

“- Explain to me why a prisoner who was released from prison three months ago is still locked to the mag wall. Explain to me why you disobeyed direct orders to return to command after Pravus' squad was incinerated. Explain to me why you're actively harassing and preying on nomad's in the middle of nowhere! What are you even doing now? Is this coralith komodo the original target?” Jace's temper was rising as he spoke, but his demeanour remained steady.

“What I'm doing with the nomads has nothing to do with the Royal Military Division. This is XITD business, strictly. And I single handedly captured the initial target of the smash and grab as well, after squad Pravus' tragic loss. So yes, this is the original target.” Scyler scoffed.

“We never should have gone after him in the first place. He's not even attempted to cross DA borders; this is firmly within nomad space. I do wonder why you pushed so hard to get the capture order signed off in the first place.”

“Because I have a big ol' man crush on the handsome hunk, and I wanted him safely back in DA space.” Scyler seethed, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Mhmm.” Jace grunted. “Better not be any of that filthy Dynasty business. I've read some of the transcripts of your communications with them. You're scum. Beyond that, blackmailing that nomad girl to get her to do what you wanted here? Is that the only way you can get anyone to do anything for you? She's been sending that human letters every single week since he was taken in. Were you even planning on reuniting her with her husband?”

Behind them, the human’s eyes lit up open and he started listening more closely.

“What’s that matter to you?”

“It matters to me greatly. Prisoners who've served their sentence are to be released, Scyler. Not kept as a tool to blackmail people. This person has done their time, we agreed to release them. We keep our word.”

“Oh please. This fine gentlemen's extended incarceration has given me vital data on a brand new and potentially extremely dangerous corruptant that's infecting nomad space. He's a hero. I couldn't have done this without him.” Scyler flippantly gestured around him.

“So, that's what this is about?” Jace raised a stern eyebrow.

“Yes. Fine. You got it out of me. It's a highly classified business at this present time and I won't be divulging further details.”

“Were you going to release him?” The large dragon motioned towards the human on the wall again.

“What does it matter? He's just some nomad.”

Jace winced and shook his head, groaning in frustration.

“You know, the DA is trying to repair its reputation with the nomads, and it’s people like you who set us back every single time.” The larger dragon raised his gauntlet up and tapped on it, deactivating the mag locks with a *thunk* from the human, who dropped off the wall and landed heavily on his hands and feet.

“Excuse me!? What do you think you're doing with my resource?”

“You have no authority over this person and keeping him against his will is kidnapping and unlawful imprisonment. Effective immediately, you are relieved of your duties as a soldier of the Draconic Alliance Royal Military Division.”

“What?!”

“I will be returning this man to Barru X, and then returning you and this other unfortunate prisoner back to the DA. Seeing as he was an RMD contract, the coralith komodo is under my jurisdiction now.” As he spoke, Jace marched forward and gently guided the somewhat shaky human out of the room. His forearm was almost as thick as the poor man's torso. “I don't know what exactly your plan was for your new boyfriend, but I'm sure as hell not letting it happen.”

“NO! That's... Fine.” Scyler took a deep, frustrated breath. “Fine. I still have authority as an agent of the XITD and this ship is under my command. You want to play that game, Jace? So let it be. I'd reconsider whether or not you really want to put the human on that station anyway; it's about to suffer quite the meltdown.”

Jace stopped and turned his back to Scyler. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

“That corruption I was talking about, the primary perpetrators are on their way to the station to wrap up some personal business and they have an ultra-class pyro psyker. She was the one who killed Pravus' squad, and my team.”

“Does her arrival here have anything to do with you?” Jace asked, his steely demeanour becoming even more serious.

“I have data to collect; the future of the DA may depend on it.” Scyler matched Jace's temperament, but it was difficult to tell if he was mocking him or not.

“There's always a reason with you. When we get back, I'll see to it that you are prosecuted to the maximum extent of the law for this, Scyler, you understand? You cannot just lure ultra-class psyker's around to murder nomads for fun.”

“I didn't do it for fun. I'm building a report, the psyker turning up is just... bad luck.” He sounded a little more sincere now, but Jace knew Scyler better than that; he knew a little bit of humility in this creature meant nothing in reality.

“You are finding it fun though. I can tell, you've got that awful smirk all over your face. I can't wait until I finally get to wipe it off you.”

“Go play hero, Jace. I have one other objective to complete before we depart. I suggest you make your drop off quick.”

*

“Venner! They're prying the shutter open!”

A deep thud vibrated out repeatedly from behind Oxyi, as she watched the Slaves at the far end of the mall. The floor was rumbling with the approach of something heavy, something mechanical, but she didn’t dare to take her eyes off the screeching shutter, and its many faces peering out from below it.

“Venner! What the hell is going on?!?”

The arms holding up the shutter strained to lift it higher, blood oozing from their combined forearms as the metal cut deep into their skin.  It was high enough now for the Slaves to pour through and they began to squirm their way out from underneath. The freshly corrupted customers from the adult wing scrambled and threw themselves at the guards. Their rapid approach was met with volleys of thumping scaser shots; bright red tracers tore chunks out of the first wave. 

Their bodies skidded to a halt as they dropped to the polished tiled floors. The repeated stomping from behind the guards continued its approach. More and more Slaves crawled out from under the shutter. A few seemed faster than the others, and more aggressive, with vibrant neon blue streaks visible in their otherwise violet eyes. They only made it a few metres onto the limb-covered floor of the mall before they were torn apart by scaser fire, but as they died, they partially exploded in a bright cobalt flash, a huge bolt of plasma arcing across the floor and melting through the tiling with a skin curling thunderclap accompanying it.

The scrabbling limbs of a fresh squad of Slaves wriggled out from under the shutter, huddling close to one another as they stood and charging as a closely knit mass. Oxyi slam-fired her shotgun's trigger, sending shell after shell into the group, pellets piercing through their bodies, but only downing a couple. A searing crossfire of scaser rounds slammed into the opposite side of the approaching group, peeling away layers of bodies as they crumbled and fell behind, like a snowball losing mass as it rolled over the floor. As their numbers ran dry, the Slave in the centre of the group was struck with a shotgun shell to the head, and his body denonated with a bright cobalt blue flash. A vaporising plasma arc leapt through the air and connected with an unfortunate member of Barru X’s guard, leaving only ash and melting rubber in his place.

“Venner! We just lost someone!” Another guard called desperately down the comms. There was a pause, and for a few long moments only the sound of crackling static emanated from the communicator. 

“Crew, listen up!” Venner finally replied, addressing all guards across the station. “I’ve told the regulars about our situation and they're taking up arms, the stubborn lot. You got a mech on the way to the main mall, and one heading to the maintenance docks as well. If these fuckers want Barru X, they're gonna have to work for it!”

Another wave of Slaves crawled out from the shutter. Eager, hungry and ready to strike.

*THUD*

A meter long metal stake flew through the air, punching into the gut of a Slave in a business suit, and sent him hurtling backwards. He writhed around on the floor, twisted up by the length of metal and screamed out in rage, his teeth gritting in his frothing mouth.

The ear-splitting thud of a super sized industrial nail driver rippled through the mall as the source of the stomping finally arrived. A bi-pedal construction mech, armed with a super heavy nail driver on one of its oversized arms and a rock breaker drill on its other, marched into the mall on its undersized, stubby legs and triangular, bright yellow hydraulic feet. Its glass cockpit was protected by crudely welded metal plates, but its main armaments were solid pieces of industrial metal, well built and extraordinarily heavy.

“Y'all should have said we were under attack! Would have gotten this baby out sooner!” The pilot called out, taking the centre space within the mall. The guards shifted their positions to cover its flanks, and Oxyi adjusted with them, rapidly clicking more shells into her shotgun. The pilot took aim and the mech’s super-sized nail gun began to spray crude yet extraordinarily effective suppressing fire against the incoming Slaves.

*PANG-PANG-PANG-PANG*

The spikes punched into the shutter and stayed put where the flat head of the gigantic nails hit the rattling metal.The left side of the shutter dropped as the Slaves holding onto it were skewered and impaled, and it clattered to the floor loudly. One Slave, who had crawled halfway out of the shutter, was crushed under the impact, but the right hand side stayed up, a few Slaves wiggling under the metal and pushing up with all their might to keep the gate open.

“This... feels like it's going better!” Oxyi wiped her brow, thick with sweat and took aim with her shotgun. The Slaves were attempting to huddle together, to protect their animate plasma grenades, but the massive nails had stapled their bodies together, slowing them down as they attempted to pry themselves free. This was more than enough for the gun line to cut them down with a flurry of red tracers and pellets.

With the aid of mech and Nomad reinforcements, the Slaves were unable to breach more than a metre or two of ground before being cut down in a barrage of scaser fire and super sized nails. The shutter clattered to the ground with a resonating bang. What little Slaves were left were dispatched with ease. The threat was dealt with; at least for now.

The guards and nomad's cheered together, pumping their fists into the air.

Oxyi exhaled slowly through her mouth as the Slaves backed off, dropping the shutter to the floor again and disappearing behind its blood-splattered metal frame. She hung her shotgun back on her shoulder, and called out into the crowd. 

“D-Diego?! Has anyone seen him?!”

*

“Come to kill. Mhe-hah-hah-hah-hah. Mmhmistake.” Plasia laughed to herself as she marched through the corrupted remains of the long stay wing. Every door had been flung open, the occupants plucked for her corruptive desires. The lights flickered as she walked. She strutted past a utility room; two Slaves had been placed inside, waiting for their orders.

She focused her senses, and saw through the eyes of the Slaves she'd left to cover the rear. A full squad of armed guards were rapidly approaching, cutting down the sentries and closing in on the long stay wing. Her vision rapidly blurring as the Slaves were shot down, but they'd already served their purpose. It hadn’t too long ago that these Slave's were just ordinary people, staying aboard this station and living their lives like any other day...

“SUFFER WELL! TRUTH OR DARE!” She screamed from under the mask, charging off down the corridor towards the breach point; on the far side of the wing was a lounge with maintenance access at the back of the room. The lounge was a little better decorated than the corridors, with a slightly warm, homely feeling to it with comfy looking chairs scattered around, a few pool tables and a large TV screen mounted to one of the walls. It was also a lot more open than the rest of the building, with some room to walk around within its amber lit interior. A single first aid kit was hung up near the door, labelled “Use in case of medical emergency” in bright green writing, along with a fire extinguisher.

The guards were looking to breach in at the very rear, through the inconspicuous “Staff only” door. Plasia entered into the lounge, blue goo still dripping from her mask and staining the unmarked floor of the room and listened closely. She could hear the gentle thud of many heavy footsteps from behind the walls.

“Dare.” She growled, creeping towards the door and pressing up against the wall. She had no more Slaves in the area to keep eyes on the team, but she could feel them right through the plasterboard... they were pressing themselves up against the wall too... in a line... the ones closer to the door were fiddling with something...

This wouldn't do.

They would need to be dealt with. As she’d planned.

She screeched loudly, the sound distorted by her mask filters and she lunged through the wall, her hands smashing through the structure and grabbing hold of two men. She yanked them back through the wall in one mighty pull, ignoring their terrified screams as she quickly mauled them to death, clumsily crushing their bodies with bludgeoning fists as anger overtook her.

The remaining guards quickly opened fire with their Scasers, pelting Plasia's form with stinging red rounds.

They didn’t even hurt her.

Some bounced off. Others fizzled out entirely.

Slowly, the scaser fire ceased and Plasia stood defiant, grinning beneath the filters. A crimson afterglow grew around her sapphire body, like a demonic sun setting in the distance.

She cackled loudly and lunged forward again, ploughing through the wall and crushing another man into the maintenance tunnel wall, then grabbing two more by their arms and hurling them into the lounge in a single, powerful motion.

“ENERGY FIRE INEFFECTIVE! SWITCH TO BALLISTICS!”

Their bodies span through the air, one slamming into a wall and dropping to the floor. The other she snatched out of the air and slammed him down onto a pool table, smashing it to pieces and sending wooden chunks flying into the air. The guards in the corridor fumbled with their weapons and swapped to their repeaters instead, nodding to one another.

Bullets began to fill the air, punching into the walls and furniture, their impacts kicking dust and drywall into the fight.

Plasia grabbed the broken pool table, the guard's body still embedded within it, and threw it at her now approaching aggressors. The guards moved as one into the lounge, emerging through the massive hole in the wall Plasia had made and the “Staff only” door. The pool table missed all the guards and exploded into chunks against the wall and crumbled to pieces.

Unlike the Scasers, the repeaters stung into her flesh, thumping deep into her skin, splattering blue blood over the walls as rounds grazed her arms and legs. She ducked down and charged forward, terrifyingly fast. She knocked down three more guards, grabbed another pool table off the ground with both hands and held it up like an oversized shield, trying to protect herself. The guards scrambled around her feet, trying to regain their footing, but the monstrous alien stamped over them, her feet crushing bone and armour with a sickening crunch as bullets pelted through her makeshift shield;

Her eyes suddenly lit up; all the soldiers were in the lounge with her now. The tunnel was empty.

“~ Now ~”

There was a clack in the distance.

The lights cut out.

A faint crimson glow emanated from the tunnel’s emergency lighting as the backup generators kicked in. That, along with the glowing blue goo inside the room, cast the space in a dark, violet light.  

“Where the hell is she?! I can’t see her!”

Plasia cackled again, and a heavy fist punched the guard straight into the ceiling, his spine immediately buckling under the pressure of the attack.

The soldiers flicked the flash-lights on on their repeaters, shining their beams of light around the gloomy space in a desperate attempt to locate their target, but Plasia was playing sneaky now, stealthy, evasive. She dropped to the floor and snatched another guard by the leg, she grabbed hold with both hands and swung him as hard as she could, no one saw where he impacted, but the thud of his body was clear confirmation that he was gone.

“Let’s light her up! Finish this!” One called out, finally getting a good bead on her. A volley of bullets pierced into Plasia's stomach, riddling her with holes. She screeched again and galloped across the room, swinging her arms in huge arcs to catch as many people as she could. She felt multiple impacts against her limbs and quickly finished the job on the soldiers she'd knocked down.

She spun to a stop and drove her fingers into the soft flesh, pulling at their meat. The guards screamed in pain as she tore them apart in a brutal, animalistic fashion. More bullets punched into her abdomen, blood bursting from it and crystallising around the wounds.

“Venner! Code black! We're taking heavy losses! We need -” Plasia’s head snapped around and she surged at the guard. He dropped his communicator, raised his repeater and fired more shots into her stomach, but the impacts were less and less effective ,as the crystallised blood impeded their penetration. She seized him by the head and drove his skull into the wall behind him, again, and again, and again.

Only two men were left standing now, and they both opened fire on her together, bullets thudding into her forearms and stomach once more. Pain filled her lead-ridden stomach, she could feel the fight draining out of her.

“NOT FINISHED!” Plasia yelled at the top of her lungs, and charged forwards. The two guards glanced at one another, and with a quick nod they split, moving towards opposite sides of the room. Plasia glared after them, whipping her head around, trying to keep her eyes on both, before choosing her target. Her pace was slower now, the afterglow faded and the blue blood pouring from her gut was leaving a thick, blurry trail on the floor.

Her target retreated, trying to stay out of her reach. A deep growl escaped her throat and she grabbed a bloody pool cue from the floor, hurling it at him like a spear. It pierced through his thigh, and into the furniture behind him. He yelled in pain, briefly clutching at the wound, but quickly re-focused his attention to his repeater, and held the trigger down on Plasia's approaching form. Only a couple of rounds had time to erupt from the barrel of the gun, before his pinned form was torn apart by Plasia, pulling him apart like unwanted scraps.

The final guard's weapon clicked behind her, its ammo depleted.

He went for his pistol and fired more rounds at the now stumbling Controller, Plasia's once vicious and animated form was now rapidly depleting in strength and her stride was weak and slow. She lurched towards him with wobbly legs, shielding her face with a single dripping arm, the other arm hanging more limply to her side.

With each shot fired, the guard’s face lit up, the spark illuminating the scene around him. Plasia’s blue and blood-stained mask slowly advanced on him. The sight burnt into his core. She backed him further and further into a corner of the room as his pistol continued to *clack, clack, clack* through the dead and empty space. It wasn’t enough to stop her advance. 

She brought her arm down weakly over him. The guard dropped his pistol and raised both of his over his head, to try and shield himself. Their forearms locked together and he fought with every ounce of strength he had left in his trembling body. Plasia’s hand pushed down, past his and locked around his face. She pushed down one more time. A sharp *snap* rang out, and the guard fell.

The room was quiet now. No more gunshots, no more screaming. Just the pained, gentle gurgles of the last guard, and the drip… drip… drip… of Plasia’s bleeding wounds. Her stomach and forearms were bleeding profusely, her body riddled with crystal lined bullet holes and oozing fluid.

A bloodied but steady hand reached into her cleavage, and gently removed the rolled-up paper note from her chest. Plasia unfurled the note and scanned it again, inhaling deeply.

You are stronger. Make me proud - Leech.

“Am strong. Yes…” The paper crumpled in her fist’s tight grip, then slowly dropped to the floor. Her sharp eyes darted across her body and along her limbs, examining the fatal wounds that she’d sustained. “Strong… Not me who dies now.” A slight cackle escaped her cracked lips.

She dropped to her knees in the middle of the room, and finally unclasped her mask. Neon-blue goop popped free from the seal and ran down her neck as she laid it on her lap. Slowly, she raised the mask to her face again, and placed a gentle kiss on its forehead.

“Mhmm... Fun... Been good... Leech proud, maybe?” Plasia’s voice was weak and low, gargling slightly as her mouth slowly filled with blood. She closed her eyes and laid the mask in front of her. The lounge was still partially lit by the gentle beams of light, shining from the scattered guard weapons, and from the dimly lit maintenance tunnel. Her eyes flickered open, and they stared about the room, at her gloomy massacre. 

She felt her control fading.

“Not… failure. Better than that.” She whispered to herself. A small smile crept over her face as her eyes closed once more.

For just a few seconds, she remained silent and basked in her scene, soaking in the blood and the gore. She felt the presence of her horde, all over the station, all placed and waiting. Perfection.

She wondered what the other her would make of this, and savoured a quiet, gargling laugh.

Suddenly, her eyes bolted open. Those hunter-like slits had faded already, replaced now with their wide, orb-like opposites. She gasped for breath, clutching at her stomach and looking around in the room in sheer panic.

“Diego?!? Seeth?!? Guys… Anyone?”

Plasia’s eyes filled with tears, pain flooding her stomach and arms. She glanced down at herself, at the bleeding bullet wounds, and a dark trail along the floor that led straight to her. Another noise caught her attention immediately. She saw a broken man, lying on the floor before her. His torso had been bent in half, and yet somehow, he was alive. Barely alive, but alive. He limply pawed at his pistol, which lay just out of reach.

Weakly, she crawled over to him, barely able to see through the tears clouding her eyes and kneeled above him.

“Hey! W-we need to- get you help... I can get y-you help!”

His eyes, panicked, pained and confused, met hers.

“D-did I do this t-to you...?” Guilt surged through her, a feeling one hundred times more painful than the deep bullet wounds that bore through her body. “I - I can fix this... H-hold on, sir! Stay with me!” She pleaded desperately, grabbing his hand and squeezing it.

She strained with all her effort, and just made it onto her feet, clutching at her stomach.

Across the room, her gaze landed on the first aid kit at the room’s entrance, its green signage glowing brightly in the dark. More guilt rippled through her, and her stomach rose up into her throat as she finally noticed the numerous corpses around the room. Her eyes widened. Try as she might, she couldn’t look away, her eyes flickered from one, to another, to another. Her vision bounced from body to body as she desperately searched around for any other survivors, but there was no more life to be found here.

“W-what have I done?!?” She placed one shaky leg in front of the other, but she was so weak... Her legs felt like cold stone; heavy, unresponsive and limp.

“I won't let him die like this... not like this...” She stumbled forward a little further, but the pain was beginning to blur her vision. Her foot kicked against something in the dark and she crashed to the floor. A fresh surge of pain erupted through her body as her stomach splattered against the stained carpet.

“I c-can't...” She glanced back towards her survivor, she went to reach for him… but noticed that his chest now rested, completely still. His eyes were glassy, empty, and still looking right at her.

Plasia turned back and curled up into a ball, as a numbness began to spread through her limbs.

“I'm sorry...”

Illuminated as if by spotlight, from one of the repeater’s torches, she noticed the object she stumbled on... A gasmask, with a cracked lens, blue goo dripping out from its filters, and a neon blue kiss mark stained on its forehead.

Dark fluid continued to pool around her. It was warm at first, but now, it was rapidly starting to chill.

She tried to move once more, but there was just nothing. What little strength there was continued to pour out of her perforated abdomen.

“I-is there anyone here...? Hello? C-can someone help me?” She called out, as loudly as she could, but the air in her lungs wouldn't move; her voice came out as barely a whisper.

Slowly, in the darkness, surrounded by the victims of her delirium, she let her eyes fall closed. It felt fitting.

Maybe this is for the better...

The room rested into an uneasy silence as the dust, blood and goo settled. Plasia’s breathing slowed; it was painful now to get air in, and out, but she didn't mind. It would be over soon.

But as her body slowly stilled, a small tingle rippled through her skin.

Someone was staring at her.