The Flesh is (Not) Weak [003-004] (Patreon)

[FIRST][NEXT]

[003 Rats]

The more Damon descended the mountain, the more he felt like he’d been ten steps away from being told he would be singing about the hills being alive with music. Everything looked picturesque except the scenery was all wrong, the greens were blues, the suns were two, and he was pretty damn sure he saw at least three car-sized ‘things’ off in the distance, running around amongst the alien trees in search for whatever it was they ate.

Hopefully not him.

So despite the warm sunshine and cool breeze, his mind was on high alert, it kept pointing out locations he could use to dive for cover. The training at basic left him keenly aware of how much better things would be if he had a firearm. It would’ve made the longer sight-lines more of an advantage and less of a risk. Without one, he was reduced to slinking nearer to the trees and trying to avoid being spotted by someone… or worse, something. The bony fang was a pitiful weapon, just marginally better than some random rock; its presence was not reassuring as he followed the little dot on the map labeled as “Idina”.

At first Damon had thought about approaching the person, but considering she’d pressed “a sharp thing” against his throat while he was unconscious, he thought better of it. He needed information and definitely didn’t want to get stabbed. Or shot. So keeping a distance would let him safely observe without, hopefully, as much risk.

Which was most of the reason he was currently crouched behind a bush peering down the hill at the one called “Idina”.

For an alien that may or may not be indirectly responsible for kidnapping him from Earth, she looked very damn close to a human. Two arms, two legs, one head, a torso, and light hazel hair tightly combed into a ponytail. From a distance, she would’ve been mistaken for a short woman with a forgettable face. But a longer inspection revealed the other features. Her skin was pale with a slight off-green shade to it, her ears were almost half a foot long, sharp and covered in something reflective, either silver or chrome. Her clothes were reminiscent of a medieval peasant of some sort. They were baggy and largely brown, comfortable and used, something you’d be likelier to find in a renaissance fair.

But once he overlooked her oddities, Damon’s attention turned to her backpack, its presence entirely out of place with her rough choice in clothes. It was fancy smooth light blue leather, and it had two metallic bottles hanging from the side that were polished metal. They held a promise of a much needed drink, one that left him keenly aware that he was parched.

Also, he desperately needed a shower.

The monster from the cave had bled blue stuff all over him, and Damon was feeling like the world at least owed him a bath after he’d been abducted. That “Idina” moved with purpose and direction, it told him there was a destination. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too far off. Though if this place was, he might have to reconsider his hands-off observation. Humans could last three days without water. In the meantime, with the help of the map, he was increasingly confident he could avoid her spotting him.

It was a shame that the snarling monster directly behind him didn’t get the memo that he was the one hunting. Not the one being hunted.

“System, mark enemies!”

He bolted without so much as looking back. Several things made noises in the bushes.

[...]

Error

EM-tags within range: Idina

[...]

With the ground flying underneath his rudimentary flip-flops, he turned over his shoulder to look at the thing chasing him. It was a pack of monsters, each the size of a retriever, but shaped like some sort of elongated mangy rat. Light gray fur covered its body in patches, blue naked skin apparent between the tufts. Each abomination had locked onto him as they began the chase.

There were at least three, and he would’ve missed the fourth coming out from his left if he hadn’t focused on where he was running to. He avoided getting a chunk bitten off, jumping out of the way and hastily making his way towards the tallest tree he could reach on time. Rather than give them the chance to catch up, Damon climbed the tree like a man possessed, gripping each one with everything he had, and perching himself on the highest branch he’d dare trust to hold his weight.

With curses under his lips, he paused and looked down. The monsters were screeching at him, scratching at the blue trunk, but they weren’t climbing up. Their claws were closer to a dog’s, and though they were able to jump much like a dog could, they weren’t able to find a perch to pull themselves higher.

“Ha! Fuck you.”

Damon sat down at the base of the branch, flipping the bird down at the creatures and letting out a sigh of relief. Those fangs were small, but they looked like nasty. Another thing he did not want to deal with. Now in his safe spot, all he needed to do was just wait them out. If the monsters couldn’t get to him, they’d have to tire out eventually and leave, right?

Already their yapping was calming down, so that was a plus.

[...]

System ‘heads-up’:

Idina EM-tag has left detection range.

[...]

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Damon’s gaze went down to the monsters. Their beady eyes remained thoroughly locked on him. All four of the monsters sat down, surrounding the tree and just staying there, staring at him angrily. The monsters had nowhere to go either, it seemed. For the time being, it looked like they could wait him out. If the dead blue orbs were able to express emotions, he was sure they would brim with amusement at his predicament.

“System, whatever these things are called, change name to ‘Stupid ugly rat’.”

[...]

System Update:

c̴̀_̶̶͜0͟͞͡1̢̛͜͠^̢͟d͟҉̡͜e̢͢͠  renamed to “Stupid ugly rat”

[...]

With a weary sigh, Damon’s thoughts turned back to basic training. There’d been a bit about dogs, hadn’t there? Protect head, neck, torso, and thighs. If you’re going to get bit, better for it to be shin or forearms. And keep hands clenched into fists. But if given the choice, use a gun. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a gun, nor did he want to have to deal with getting his arm torn to bloody ribbons when the things might have some unknown disease.

It also did not look like he’d be able to outrun them.

So he was left with the next least worst thing.

Standing on the branch, Damon removed the wolf-monster skin and wrapped the excess around his left arm. It took him a second to secure it to the rest of his body. It restricted his mobility somewhat, but it was better than leaving the pelt hanging loosely and potentially snagging on something. With the fang on his right, and regretting every passing moment he was having to spend without actual pants on, he focused on his target, the larger of the four rat-dog-monsters.

“If I die naked, I am going to kill whoever brought me here.”

He dropped to the lower branches before he jumped off, left padded arm forward, screaming madly at the creature and brandishing the fang like a knife.

The monster reacted, opening its mouth, ready to bite and take a chunk out of him.

It came as a surprise as its head exploded into a spray of blue gore. Damon’s fur-covered limb had slammed its skull against the ground, and just like that, it had burst like an overripe melon. Everyone present took a moment to look at the blue splatter the monster’s skull had turned into. He even forgot to move, having half-expected to be currently madly stabbing at the thing and trying to wrestle for his life.

“Huh.”

Damon rose to his feet, glancing at the other three monsters that had suddenly lost their confidence. Not one to miss the element of surprise, he pounced on the nearest one. It tried to turn to avoid him, but the fang pierced through its skin and into its ribcage with barely any resistance. It was like its bones were made of cartilage. The thing dropped dead with a silent wheeze. The other two hesitated less to attack, hissing loudly. Perhaps revenge, or perhaps desperation. But neither got past his left arm before he’d smashed them both.

The monster’s bodies were surprisingly tender. It didn’t feel like punching actual muscle and bone, more like sacks filled with jelly that had dried up a bit.

[...]

Congratulations!

You have defeated 4x of the lamely weak “Stupid Ugly Rats”

Gained: 4 Hunter Points (-2 deduction from boring). Total: 6

You can redeem points in exchange for upgrades!

Nearest booth located at: 5͟͠҉&̶̴̡_̀͢:̶̀̕̕͢ȩ͝2̷̢͜2̸̨

[...]

Damon dismissed the prompt as he unwound the monster's fur so he could go back to pretending he was wearing clothes. This time he took the chance to use the fur to wipe down some of the blue goop the monsters had splashed on him. “I really, really want a shower.”

Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention, alarms rose in his head right after. He spun around and raised his guard, ready for a fight. But no attack came. The carcasses were moving though. At first, it wasn’t clear what he was looking at. But… were they bubbling?

Damon jumped back. “What the fuck!?”

The corpses were frothing, like an effervescent pill dissolving into a glass of water. Or more like worms were crawling under their skin, which was every type of wrong he could think of. Tense, he kept a close watch, unsure whether to expect it to explode or jump at him or what.

It took exactly a minute; the bodies diminishing with every passing second. Eventually, only scattered remains were left behind. The corpse closest to him decomposed to only the white fur. Nothing else remained in its wake. The two others were left with their skulls, the fur and everything else gone. The last one just vanished entirely.

“What the fuck? What is that? What happened?”

[...]

Query Answer:

Rapid decomposition

[...]

“I can see that! Why does it do that!? Normal bodies don’t do that.”

[...]

Error

Query Answer not found

[...]

“For fuck’s sake...” He’d rub the bridge of his nose if his fingers weren’t goopy from monster blood. “I can’t waste time. Give me Idina’s last known location. Here’s hoping she didn’t just make a run for it.”

The map popped back up, and he moved.

Bad news was that Idina indeed made a run for it.

Good news was that she didn’t make it very far.

Her attempted escape got her only a couple hundred meters outside of the system’s detection range, and by the time he’d jogged his way to her last known location, she was back on the edge of the map again. A rather fortunate thing since he didn’t want to find out how far he could keep running with the mostly ruined flip-flops and lack of water.

Once her dot was in the map again, Damon noted she’d stopped to rest or hide or something. So he just climbed up a tree and monitored the area just in case some other monster opted to sneak up on him. The watch didn’t have to wait too long, Idina began moving after only half an hour.

Her pace was slow, enough that he suspected she was trying to avoid being seen, but he wasn’t about to complain. That scare with the giant rats left him paranoid about potentially getting ambushed by another monster if he paid too much attention to the map.

Two hours of walking later, Idina took another half hour break. The slow pace had remained throughout, which wouldn’t have raised alarms if not because she’d also begun moving in a kind of bee-line. It left Damon fearing she was aware she was being followed. Maybe she could identify his presence the same way he was able to detect hers. Perhaps the map was a tool more people had and not just himself. Whatever the case, he figured he’d get answers so long as he remained patient.

And then the Idina dot began running again.

Either she was trying to get away from him, or something else was chasing her, and in either scenario, he couldn’t afford to let her get out of range. The chase began.

Even with everything that had pummeled him throughout the past day, he was still light on his feet, so it was easy to navigate the hill, especially when the trees were so sparse. By comparison, the harshest part was the ground itself and his damnable sandals. Damon swore that he’d buy himself some good shoes at the first chance he had.

As soon as he crested the hill, the first thing he spotted were more of the ugly rat things. Idina was clearly running from them, and she was doing a poor job at it. At the current distance, even if he ran as fast as he could, Damon would not get to her before the monsters did. The buggers were faster than him. He’d have to hope she’d be able to hold them off.

“The tree!”

His shout got her to turn around and look his way. Her eyes widened like plates and with a shriek, she somehow started running faster. The same did not happen to the monsters. As soon as they’d spotted Damon, all three monsters turned on a dime, rushing in his direction without a moment of hesitation. That was very concerning, but it wasn’t like he could readily climb another tree to wait things out to wonder what was going on.

With no time to remove his single piece of clothing and make an improvised shield again, Damon picked up the first rock he could find and prepared himself. The moment the first monster came into range, he threw the stone at it, diving right after. The monster dodged the projectile, but it had not expected Damon to be part of the package. A swift kick landed against its chest and blue blood burst out of its mouth and ears as it collapsed.

The other two showed a brief hesitation before jumping straight at him. Damon’s left calf burst into pain when the creature’s fangs bit down. He screamed, kicking backwards with his right. It broke something because the monster let go and stumbled to the ground, but its friend was trying to circle around Damon to attack him from behind.

So he did the only thing he could think of.

Copying the previous owner of the fur he wore as a tunic, he jumped backwards and landed on top of the monster. It wasn’t enough to seriously damage it, but Damon still weighed twice as much as the surprised monster. With the monster knocked down, all he had to do was pummel at it with his elbows until it stopped moving.

Pained and grimacing, he stood back up. His left leg was looking worse for wear.

[...]

Congratulations!

You have defeated-

[...]

“Dismiss.”

“HELP!”

Idina had kept shouting all throughout his fight. She’d not stopped to climb a tree but had continued running down the hill. Towards a village.

It was a small thing, probably closer to a hamlet, and confined within the blue hills. There were barely twenty buildings in total. The design reminded Damon of the sort of houses he’d seen when he’d been visiting Europe. The walls were white, but the wooden beams outside were blue, with the roofs being slanted enough he wondered how grueling it must be to change the shingles.

If not for the four meter tall walls made out of blue lumber, it was the sort of picturesque you’d see on a postcard.

“Is that a drone!?” he said.

Damon blinked twice.

The thing was entirely out of place within the rustic village.

A robot the size and shape of a washing machine was flying out of the hamlet and in Idina’s direction. The front of the device had a circular lens that glowed in soft yellow light. Rust and gunmetal gray paint covered the machine that was keeping itself aloft with two flat circular discs embedded to its sides. The faint buzzing gave away the nature of what those disks were doing. It was a sound like a helicopter rotor that had taken a big dose of helium.

“MONSTER!” Idina screamed, clearly pointing at Damon. “HELP!”

The drone adjusted its course, turning its glowing eye in his direction. It accelerated to full speed.

“That bitch!”

***

Traveling through interstellar space at speeds faster than light carries many risks. Though one may hear about rogue planets and supernova flares, those were extremely rare. Freak accidents that would often make the rounds through the net and make people wonder whether they should really board a shuttle off-planet or not. But those with the experience knew better, the real danger were the interstellar winds.

They were produced by massive clouds of gas and dust, remnants of stars long dead, their size spanning tens if not hundreds of thousands of lightyears across. Anything moving across them at any significant speed would be buffeted by charged particles. Using warp bubbles left the ship technically near immobile while space was compressed and expanded around it, but at the border of the bubble matter would accumulate in tiny quantities over time, compressing against more matter, making it all the worse. The thicker the cloud, the longer the jump, the more it built up.

Emilie, swiveling in her chair, was looking at the readings on her screen and pondering on this very matter. “On one hand, I could get another misdemeanor for delays and get my pay cut some more.” Slowly, she hummed. “On the other hand, I could die.”

If one were to allow the buildup to continue indefinitely, it would eventually have enough energy to break through the bubble. At that point, the ship would be exposed to enough plasma it might as well have crashed directly into a star.

Her finger hovered over the button. She could turn off the bubble down right now, the ship would stop its relativistic speeds, and she would have to wait for a whole day before it had cooled enough to be able to engage again. Was 0.6% chances of catastrophic failure too high?

She rubbed her chin. All the ship had to do was hold-out until it reached the system’s heliosphere and then she could disengage the warp bubble right on schedule. So long as she didn’t hit something crazy unlikely like remnants from the First Wave, everything would be fine.

Emilie shrugged and dismissed the notification. With a flick of her fingers against the screen, she set up the alarm to blare out if the chances of failure rose to 3%, and went to watch something from her saved up video rental catalog.

[004 Thump]

“That thing looks like the Mexican cartel’s grandmother tried to give them a weaponized washing-machine for Christmas.”

[…]

System ‘heads-up’:

Automaton Isthatit has entered detection range

Distance: 300 meters

[…]

Damon could see the options playing out before him. The village was far, but Idina was not. If he ran up to her, he was going to catch up to her before the robot reached either of them. The immediate thought would have been the prospect of using her as a hostage, to get the drone to back down. That idea made him flinch. He’d joined the army, not the mafia. But what did that leave him with? It flew faster than he ran, and his leg was currently painfully reminding him one of those disgusting rat-dog-things had nearly torn a strip out of him. Attempted escape would have him potentially learning what they’d armed the drone with. And he didn’t have any way to fight against the robot other than throwing stones.

Then again, he didn’t want to fight at all.

That decided things rather easily.

“My name is Damon and I don’t wish to fight!”

With a quick check that there were no monsters lurking nearby, he lowered himself to his knees and raised his arms. Praying inwardly to whatever God oversaw this alien planet. Damon kept himself still as he waited for the drone to get closer. The bargain-bin dooms-day cube rattled in its approach, panels opened on its sides and beneath, long robotic limbs sprang out and the fans holding it aloft stopped. For a fraction of a second, it looked like it would just stay there in the air. But gravity took hold, and it dropped, falling to the ground on top of its fourth thick robotic legs with a thud.

Sparks flew out of the front leg, but that only stopped the machine for a moment. It rushed towards him. Three robotic arms sprung from the panels at either side, each tipped with foot-long blades like some sort of nightmarish combination between a robot, a spider, an octopus chef, and a home appliance.

“That does not look friendly. I come in peace! I yield?”

The robot was getting closer, and Damon was reconsidering his life-choices.

“Take me to your leader? I surrender?”

When the knives took a red sizzling fiery glow, all thoughts of staying put were discarded.

“Fuck this.”

Damon did not waste another second, he scrambled to his feet and shot out at a dead sprint towards the trees as fast as he could go. His crappy improvised sandals were quick to get disposed of along the way. Only after a good thirty-seconds did he dare to look over his shoulder. The machine had not chased, apparently not confident it would catch up on foot. Instead, it was retracting limbs and returning to flying shuttle mode.

Running like a madman, the terrain was rough for Damon’s feet. He was sure the trees might provide some level of cover, but it wasn’t something he could count on against a flight-abled enemy. He’d joined the army, spent weeks in training, grueling every minute. And none of it prepared him for a Lovecraftian flying washing-machine chasing him through an alien forest.

“The drills did nothing!”

The drone didn’t take long to start catching up, the buzzing sound of its propeller becoming louder and louder. But alongside it there was a new vibration, a faint wheezing sucking noise. It was growing in strength, like someone trying to take in a lungful of air through a very tiny straw. With the increasing volume of this new sound, concern drew Damon to glance at the drone.

The machine was flying barely two meters over the ground, the unblinking robotic eye glowed ominously. The thing was now a bit too close for comfort, and that was why he saw the speeding rust-bucket vibrate and rattle before letting out a singular solid thump that arrested a lot of its speed all at once, nearly stopping it midair.

Damon didn’t see whatever had happened that had slowed it down like that. There was no blur or flash of light. But he still got to feel it an instant afterward. A wall of air slammed against him with concussive force. He was smashed forward like someone had just given him a full body shove, courtesy of a whole football team worth of linebackers. It sent him careening into the dirt while dust exploded upward all around him.

“The fuck was that!?”

Immediately, it became clear he couldn’t hear that well. The attack had rung his head, and his ears were in the middle of enduring a weapon’s-grade tinnitus. One he really did not have the time to worry about. Especially not when he was able to faintly make out the wheezing that signaled round two was on its way.

Stumbling to his feet, he rolled out of the way as another thump blasted the spot he’d occupied a moment ago. Damon’s brain reeled and he began running again, instinct and self-preservation overcoming the ringing for long enough for the chase to renew. It was an obviously losing proposition, though. He couldn’t reliably get himself away from the machine when said thing flew faster than him. How many more of those air-cannon attacks was he able to take before he wouldn’t be capable of standing back up and it could just switch back to stab-mode and end him?

The third thump missed him by a hair. The pressure washed over his arm right as he’d ducked out of the way. It was a physical force that rattled the air, but by whatever fortune smiled down on him, it didn’t seem to carry enough power that a glance-shot would actually injure him. It only knocked him slightly off balance.

He could only think of one way out of this mess. He didn’t like it.

“This is going to get me killed.”

Damon grit his teeth, clenching the fang tightly. He immediately turned around to face the incoming drone and used every bit of strength he could muster to leap at it before it had the time to react.

He betted his jump height would be higher than back on Earth, and he’d been right.

Wielding a fang in each hand, his body stuck to the robot’s body, his hands flung and struck at the cube’s circular flat turbine like a man possessed. Rather than seek to sink his blade into the spinning fans for support, he attacked the hydraulics that connected the disk to the cube with everything he had. The added impact of his weight knocked the drone into a wild spin. He did not lose the opportunity to strike at the joint as hard as he could repeatedly, going at it hard until he and the machine struck the ground and became a car-crash accident equivalent. There was a rain of sparks and red-hot agony, followed by screeching metal against metal. Damon was slammed against a tree, the drone crashed right after not too far off.

Damon was the first to his feet, feeling like he’d just bruised and scraped and maybe partially electrocuted everything above his waistline. The pain made it hard to tell if he’d broken anything or was just generally injured in very painful ways, but his focus was on the robot.

Maybe it would not get back up.

Reality wasn’t giving any freebies though. The robot had landed upside down, and the panels were opening to let its limbs out, they flung about madly. Only three of the four legs worked, the fourth raining sparks before becoming completely still. The knives were coming out too, and at that point, Damon didn’t care enough to stick around and find out how quickly it would take the thing to turn him into sushi.

Though he started off with a limp, he worked up a bit of speed as the full-body rattle he’d received started to wear off. Each step was slightly more stable than the last. The pain from the fall was going to kick him something fierce once the adrenaline ran out. But that was a concern for future Damon, and if he didn’t move, there would be no future Damon at all.

The sound of screeching metal drew his attention back to the robot. The metal rust-box had toppled on its three functioning crab-legs under it and was currently starting its pursuit at a pace Damon would consider closer to a slow jog. That was good, he could escape and get away. Maybe he’d even have time to rest up and take a break from this crazy third-rate terminator. He’d just need to put enough distance to lose it first.

It was the home stretch.

[…]

System ‘heads up’:

User Sybil has entered detection range.

Distance: 180 meters

User Handrondi has entered detection range.

Distance: 190 meters

[…]

Damon held back from speaking, as if every curse word on his vocabulary was trying to be used at the same time and he’d been frozen with indecision over which would be more appropriate. So he did his best not to insult the program at the very least, speaking through gritted teeth. “Dismiss notification. Display all contacts on the map.”

The mini-map popped up, showing his own green dot drifting away from one gray dot, tagged as the droid. Another dot, also gray, marked as Idina was moving away from him. And there were two red dots that had clearly come from the village. They were moving to intercept him.

“Fuck.”

With a sharp turn to the right, he headed up the hill. His legs were burning, and the day’s fatigue was already weighing him down plenty. Lower gravity or not, higher oxygen or not, Damon felt like he was right back to the death-march. He thanked his stars he wasn’t carrying the whole gear and was just naked with a mutant-wolf skin he wore for clothes. With a glance at the map, it was clear the two dots were slowing down but still gaining on him. One of them, Sybil, was shortening the distance faster than the other. The little dot moved in tiny bursts of speed as it kept encroaching.

He glanced over his shoulder, not spotting anyone or anything. And changed direction again, a slight right, almost a ‘U’ turn from the angle he’d been running from the robot. It was a gamble. If they were tracking him, it would mean they’d catch him sooner, but if they weren’t…

The three dots kept moving uphill, and Damon had just the barest edge of joy as he regained some of that distance he’d gambled with. Space he used to slow down and recover his breath. He paced himself to a comfortable light jog, keeping one eye on the mini-map, the other on the surrounding forest. He’d stumbled onto the rat-things once and, considering his luck, he was half expecting to run into another pack the moment he let out a sigh of relief.

It didn’t take long before the three enemies were changing course in his general direction, and they’d done so at the same time. Damon figured they had some way to communicate with each other. Fortunately, the droid was being left behind, and Sybil’s lead on their companion had increased.

But, overall, they were slowing down. Still faster than him, though.

He spotted movement in the trees, and a voice calling out in shouts. Were they confirming his location?

[…]

No Match Found

Auto-Translation (Halter) insufficient

Engaging Learning Mode

[…]

He couldn’t surrender, he couldn’t escape, and his body was running on fumes.

But he couldn’t stop either, or he’d be outnumbered and things would go from bad to worse.

Another glance over his shoulder. He got a better view of his pursuer. Sybil advanced in long leaps, running for a handful of seconds before jumping an impressive five meters or so, and sprinting some more. The figure was heavily hooded, making it hard to guess at what kind of threat they presented aside from what clearly would be a mean kicker.

Something glimmered as the hooded figure’s hands moved under the cloak. A moment later, Damon felt a sharp pain on his left thigh where the monster had bitten him. He held back the scream, but his leg gave out all the same. There was enough inertia to roll his way to a stop, and by then, the hooded figure had reached him. They wielded a short-sword, and they’d lunged at him for a stab.

Damon scrambled, rolled, and leapt back to his feet. His left leg felt like it was on fire, but he pushed it all the same. Sybil’s sword swung upwards in a cut that would have sliced into his shoulder if he hadn’t moved out of the way. From under the hood, hazel eyes widened in surprise, the figure’s face otherwise entirely covered.

“The fuck do you want!?” Damon said.

The only response was a load of gibberish.

[…]

Learning Mode is Engaged

More data is needed

[…]

“Dismiss! Dismiss!”

Damon barely had time to twist his body out of the way of the next attack. The sword tried to reach him and he very enthusiastically jumped out of its range. Sybil’s left hand reached for something on their belt and another glimmer of metal. Damon moved back rather than wait, but it still hit him squarely in his injured thigh. An intense jolt of pain followed. With a grunt, he looked down, a metal dart had embedded itself into his skin.

“First monsters, then robots, and now a ninja?”

He didn’t have the time to tear it out. The blade came back, and his only option was to move away. If he got close, he’d get turned into kebab. With a half-hearted attempt to run before the others got there, the hooded figure sprung forward like some oversized shuttlecock to swing the sword at him and block his escape.

Retreat wasn’t working, he heard shouts, the other one was coming. The robot wouldn’t be too far behind.

Hands reaching at his throat, he undid the knot on the fur cape. Damon glanced around and leapt back, employing a tree for partial cover to avoid giving his attacker room to swing too wildly at him without smacking the tree along the way. The blade would come from the left. He moved right and allowed the timber to do the rest of the work while his fingers fumbled at the large piece of fur.

It was impossible to recognize the words spoken, but the tone made it clear Sybil was cursing up a storm at him. They were trying to get around the tree, but Damon hurriedly moved to circle in a deadly game of ring around the rosie to ensure the tree remained a very annoying obstruction. And because he was staying close to the tree itself, the ninja couldn’t use its super jump either.

“Serves you right.”

The moment the fur had loosened, he turned to run away from the tree. Sybil took the chance and leapt to intercept him.

Damon swung the large fur over his shoulder in a downwards arch. It smacked the ninja squarely out of the air and into the dirt. He didn’t lose a second to drop the fur on Sybil. They reacted quickly too, their blade pierced through the thing, but not before Damon got a good kick in that sent Sybil rolling a whole two meters and against a tree. The sword fell from their grasp, laying on the ground while the arm that had been holding it had gone limp.

Sybil groaned weakly from under the fur. Meanwhile, Damon picked up the sword. He might be naked now, but now he had the short-sword. Finally, he took a deep breath to recover some strength, aware the companion wouldn’t be too far off. So long as Sybil was sufficiently out of commission, he’d be able to more comfortably put some distance behind him. Hopefully the Handrondi fellow wouldn’t catch up at all and-.

[…]

System ‘heads-up’:

Installing new Language Package

[…]

“Oh fuck, n-!”

His brain exploded in heat and agony. Damon dropped the sword, screaming. The pain shot directly from his forehead to the back of his skull. His legs gave out as his vision became hazy. The fur skin he’d used to constrain Sybil was tossed aside, and Damon tried to reach for the sword. The hooded figure jumped at him, knocking him on his back. A dagger pressed against his throat.

Piercing honey-colored eyes stared at him from the darkness under the hood.

Damon dimly heard heavy footsteps not too far off.

“RED BLOOD!” an unfamiliar voice shouted.

And everything came to a halt.

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