damned_institute | Night 56: Weapons Range

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Night 56: Weapons Range

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The thing that this boy should have warned them about this room were the lights. Erika was almost blinded the moment she followed Sync and the other through the doors, grimacing and immediately shielding her eyes from the powerful skylights shining down on them. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the detective knew that this sort of trick was a deliberate move by Landel to disorient and confuse anyone trying to get in. Perfect if you were trying to slice them open with bullets. Erika certainly didn't forget about that, immediately shuffling to the side with her back against the wall to avoid any turrets that were positioned right at the entrance.

That move wasn't necessary, she realized, as her eyes adjusted and she could make out... absolutely nothing before them, an empty stretch of air. That was unexpected, but then again, despite how this scene was completely different from what the other boy described, Erika wasn't too startled. It seemed about right that Landel-san or whomever was running this place now would change up the challenge exactly to prevent them from having too much of an advantage, but it still seemed... extremely lacking, compared to what she heard. Was there something else in store for them? The detective took no chances, sweeping her eyes around the room and trying to find any hidden traps or enemies waiting. That was her job, after all. But the room, while large, was also cold and lifeless, a giant rectangle of metal. There was simply nowhere else to hide anything.

Erika didn't feel the need to share her observations, instead staying in place and observing the rest of the soon-to-be battlefield. This was the other boy's test, after all, so she had no desire to interfere in what was supposed to be his moment of glory. She wouldn't be so cruel as to take that golden opportunity away from him, after all.

"Good luck, you two." And weren't they going to need it.

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Hindsight would horrify another in his place. A child resorting to ruthless tactics to "pass" a test was an abnormality beyond most. His success only seemed to cement the idea that Nigredo was far from human. When given the chance, he made an excellent weapon. A small part recognized the unrivaled performance among the variants in terms of murder, and he knew he would violently react to it all one day.

All that remained in the present, however, was survival.

He rose to full height, ignoring the pinching sensations in his shoulder and arm. The gun was once again readied, his finger squarely on the trigger, his mind buzzing with awareness. It was the single detail that perhaps spared his life when the voice returned. Three forms rushed in, their targets well-known, leaving Nigredo with a fraction of a second to react. He jumped back--far enough to miss the arm going for the neck--and pulled the trigger at the one in his front.

That unfortunately left the blade for his legs. The back of a sharpened curve caught in one of the calves, forcing Nigredo to stop shooting and take a rolling landing. He finally slid to a stop on his knees and noted with extreme displeasure that he could not rise. The standard must have left a significant cut on his leg, deep enough for the body to temporarily lock his joints in shock.

This was not good. Was, in fact, a terrible problem. Restricted movement lowered his options, forcing him to take stock of what was available. Nigredo might have cursed if he had lacked the distaste for colorful language. He didn't like his own body betraying him like this, and that gave rise to an anger rare and relatively unseen. With no other choices available, the child gritted his teeth and fired into the trio. The three forms were in a relatively close range; a hail of bullets should prove better than nothing.

"No," was Erika's quick response to Sync's question, because it was the truth and because she was actually regretting not having such items herself. The boy had taken another cut, much deeper this time, and his performance was suffering because of it. Now that the odds were no longer in his favor, she waved a hand urgently at Sync to go perform his intended duty.

In the meantime, she decided to take the risk of breaking her concentration on battle to come up with a solution to keep the boy from bleeding out. She didn't have any spare clothing, no, but she did have fabric. The pillowcase's extra volume wasn't needed, so she decided to sacrifice it and untied the pillowcase from her waist, preparing to cut it into ribbons. It was a poor solution, but it didn't matter - she was sure the military would patch up the wound properly the next morning. At least, she hoped so.

"Figures..." Sync muttered, though it was barely loud enough to be heard over what was happening now. Fortunately Erika could make due like the rest of them, though at this point her pillowcase probably wouldn't provide the amount of dressing they would need after this was through.

The God-General had been dangerously close to jumping into the fray when those doors slid open and those creatures came running out. However, he was stopped short when the latter began to shoot wildly into the group, even going so far as to take a step back. While the move itself was just an extension of common sense, it left Nigredo without any sort of opportunity to receive assistance. Sync wasn't about to jump into the torrent of bullets in order to land a hit on one of those monsters, which meant his roommate had to deal with this little setback himself.

The Variant reacted quickly, enough that it was obvious that training had not left him in the time he had been here. The one at the front was taken down before it had a chance to attack, shrieking to the sky and collapsing inward, its high gasps the backdrop for the rest of the remaining fight.

Of the two remaining, Nigredo's attack caught the one who had missed. Bullets tore through its side and it collapsed. Despite the ferocity given to it, it was still alive, and showed that, crawling forward weakly to attempt to attack again.

It was the third that began to show itself as a problem. It was this one that successfully tore through the back of Nigredo's leg, and in the process of Nigredo dodging and retaliating, this Standard had followed the motion, dodging the spray of bullets as it was let out. Nigredo was lower now, on the ground and bleeding, and in the end, that amount was not enough. The Standard darted in from the side, paying no mind to the others. It's arm raised, but in reverse--the intent was to knock the back of the blade into Nigredo's head, and once the Variant was down further, to continue more lethal attacks.

A functioning U.R.T.V. fully locked into its own taint posed one significant problem. Lower limbs in shock posed another. Combined with a closing distance, Nigredo had to make due with a choice: shoot to miss and risk being overwhelmed or stop long enough to cushion the oncoming blow. Pros and cons made the decision simple, and though something in him touched on a third, he moved onto the second.

He raised the rifle in time to prevent the backside of the limb from hitting the child directly, but the force was enough to knock him entirely on his back, head slamming once against the ground. Or again, if you considered the recent weeks. As his perception whirled in an almost nauseating manner, he left the weapon in front of him to prevent getting easily disemboweled (or worse) and wondered sardonically if his recent behavior was due to concussions.

If he managed not to get beheaded, maybe he should invest in a helmet.

She indeed didn't have enough pillowcase to make enough dressing for all of the boy's wounds, though she was mostly concerned about the one he suffered on his leg. Still, even after cutting up the pillowcase as best as she could, she wasn't even sure if this meager amount was enough to bandage that wound.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, as if she was completely removed from the bloody battle raging just a few feet away from her, she lifted up the fabric of her skirt and started to tear at that, leaving the white petticoat underneath. The many ruffles and wrinkles made the fabric difficult to cut straight, but she could stand to lose an inch from it. Erika wasn't going to sacrifice all of her clothing, of course: Sync better damn well make sure some of his clothing didn't get bloodied up either.

As tempting as the prospect was, the end did not justify the means in this state. Nigredo was still too useful to fall in this manner, even if it was likely that the other would revive regardless. Time was something he would no longer take for granted, which meant risking the possibility of tainting the work the latter had performed in the first place.

The moment Nigredo fell back completely was when it finally became necessary to act, and Sync darted forward with unmatched speed towards the remaining creature. He was quick to use that momentum to his advantage, twisting his body and performing a round kick to the monster's temple in an attempt to knock it away from his roommate. But it didn't stop at just that, and the God-General was prepared to make that attempt to knock the creature back once more if it dared to make the same mistake.

Down, went the one created last and unequivocal. The crack of 669's skull pleased something within the Standard, and it wasted no time with the reaction, crouched to spring atop him, bladed forearms at the ready to tear into Nigredo, gouge out his organs and strip flesh from bones. Five had fallen, but the remaining one couldn't be bothered to care. In moments, their goal would be complete despite the losses of--

Something quick and hard cracked into the Standard's head, the force spinning the URTV into the ground a few feet away. It was not enough for actual damage, but still the Standard shook itself, then flipped upward to land in a crouch. It gave a screech at Sync, intruder, it must be punished, it must be deleted, then leapt forward, blades extended forward.

In the moments taken to recover, the weight above him vanished like it had never been, the U.R.T.V. watching in suspended disbelief as help came in the form of one despised. True, his roommate had established himself as a backup. True, this was only to fulfill their agreement. It still took a second to place the reasons why.

Just a second, of course. The infected unit had yet to be incapacitated, and as long as that held as fact, Nigredo could not afford distractions. Especially with the standard's attention preoccupied on Sync--the opportunity proved too perfect for him to do otherwise. From his position on the ground, the boy raised up the rifle, adjusting the position of the scope on the last target. As it leaped toward the other, he pulled the trigger.

More gunfire, and Sync had jumped in, but that didn't distract Erika from her painful task of having to tear her dress apart to help nurse that stupid boy's wounds. Even cutting her dress didn't give her enough usable fabric, so finally, the girl turned the blade on her sleeves and started to shred the fabric around that, exposing her arms up to her elbow.

The girl was none too happy about this, and if that boy didn't make himself useful for the rest of the trip, she was going to kill him herself.

Had Sync been paying attention to Erika he would've laughed and suggested she just take off her entire dress at this point. Yet his focus couldn't have been any farther from his partner, instead working himself away from the monster that he'd attracted. The intent had been to distract, to give Nigredo that chance to recover and use this moment to his advantage.

As soon as he heard the sudden release of gunfire the God-General immediately ducked to the side and out of the way, rolling and holding his head in case any 'stray' bullets were aimed in his direction.

So focused was it on its target that the hailstorm of remaining bullets tore through it with ease. It died instantly, the same as the rest, with near-crying gasps for air, and blood gushing upwards before it vanished. There existed silence, the intercom returned. "Phase three. Complete."

There was a buzz and a whir and a platform raised at the far end of the room, an outline of a door appearing behind it. "Testing complete." The intercom died out, and no further sounds came.

Complete. Complete. The last of the infected fell, and with its death came the acknowledgement of success. The rifle in his hands faded as though it had never been--unsurprising given his last experience and the context. Like he ever expected to keep it. Landel wasn't so generous. Nigredo dropped to his back, eyes fixed on the metal ceiling. It was in that moment that boy realized how hard he had been breathing.

Whether Sync or the female survived the ordeal, Nigredo didn't particularly care. Nor did he value their opinions regarding the matter if they planned to voice any. He would rather stay on the ground for the moment and hopefully recover whatever he had lost.

Right.

If the room was to be trusted, the death of those last three creatures signaled the end of their trial. Whether they were successful or not, she couldn't tell. The immediate result of a door appearing to them was a sign that she truly wanted to take as a good one, but she was done with Landel's tricks for tonight. After shredding most of her clothing, she was feeling rather angry and like this whole trip hadn't been worth anything to her. She couldn't even have the satisfaction of completing it, when there was nothing for her to do.

Well, nothing to do but play nurse. The amount of fabric Erika had was still a bit pitiful, but what did she care. As long as the boy was kept alive until the end of the night, then at the very least none of this would be in vain. So she wasted no time, heading towards Nigredo and kneeling down next to him. The wound on his leg was the deepest one as far as she could tell, not that she was looking, so she grabbed it and started to wrap his leg tightly with the spare fabric.

"That was entertaining, at the very least," She airily commented, sounding like she meant quite the opposite. "I'd give you a C for effort."

As for that door… It was probably best if they all went through together in case another ambush happened, but the boy was in no condition to fight and Erika didn't care to check herself.

"Go check the door, Sync."

Sync could take care of himself. He could do it.

Hearing those words echo against the walls was enough to make the God-General sigh, raising himself from the floor to glance over the damage that Nigredo had done. His roommate looked worse for wear, but Erika was already begrudgingly working to help the other with that meager amount of fabric in her fist. If it wasn't enough he'd toss his own shirt into the mix, but for now he had something else to focus on.

Sync waved Erika off as he made his way over to the door that led to their exit; that is, if this room was anything like what he'd endured before. There was that off chance that this trial was as cruel as the others, and that there were still three more rooms to endure after this.

But as soon as he reached the platform what he saw made him grin. It was just like what he'd possessed before, though he supposed it made sense given the placement of the rooms. Sync took the sword, examining the weapon carefully in his hands, before making his way back to the other two in the room.

"Looks like you still have some use after all," He started, smirking down at Nigredo.

Being "praised" and tended to by the very people who brought him this mess seemed to be a reoccurring theme in his life. The detail was beyond comedic, and unable to restrain himself, Nigredo let out a hollow laugh. The sound reverberated in the near empty room, before cutting off on an exhale. Those familiar with his reticence and preference for propriety might have been shocked by the display, but he supposed his handlers would find it more amusing.

Whatever. They had their prize, but it certainly wasn't their ultimate goal. Nigredo knew as much as the others; one useless sword was only half of the requirement. He smiled sweetly, as he would for an adult who lacked a clue to his intentions.

"Don't forget," the boy said. "We still have to visit the other side." Most of the night had passed already; it was doubtful they would succeed before morning. Or should Nigredo say he was entirely hopeful? Escaping these two would be an improvement.

With that, he turned to the female, noting without humor the sheer lack of frills on her dress. She must be desperate to help a boy she hadn't met until now. How nice of her. Too bad it irritated him. "I hope your rags can keep my leg together," he commented in a tone very similar to the one she had used. "I'd like to be able to move in one piece."

"Of course." It was obvious that the other side needed to be visited as well, though Erika was slightly amused by the fact that the boy seemed to easily accept that they weren't going to give him a breather. Then again, he didn't sound very grateful, knowingly commenting on the state of her once-lovely dress. The girl's brow quirked in anger for a moment, and Erika didn't try very hard to keep the ugly, indignant expression off her face. She didn't want to waste her precious secret weapon for something as petty as this, normally, but Erika didn't care tonight.

"Oh, I assure you that these will do the trick. However, you shouldn't talk so much and waste your strength," Erika 'cheerfully' reminded the boy, drawing out the roll of duct tape on her bag. It made that ever so satisfying tearing noise as she started to pull off a piece, her expression changing just by hearing that exquisite sound.

"Let me help you with that."

One might have thought she would have cruelly used the duct tape to secure his wounds, but while she thought of that, it was too much of a waste when her clothing, which was expendable. On the other hand, she wanted to try and teach this boy the virtues of being silent and that was worth using just a tiny piece. The moment Erika managed to (somehow) tear off a piece of tape, she slammed it down on the boy's mouth and made sure it stuck , kneading her hand over it once over.

"Alright, it looks like the boy has been patched up. We should get going."

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Night 56: Weapons Range

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