DIVISION 52 - BOOK III

CHAPTER VII

"And the Division?" Proximo retorted in lethal calm, "–where are they to be navigated?"

There was a heavy silence in the air.

I glanced at Alex and she tightened her hand on her fusion pistol. That meant nothing good.

"The Division are not a part of the plan." Artella finally cut across the rooftop.

I heard a shift of boots and I could only imagine the rage Proximo wore so starkly now. I checked my own pistol at my hip and Alex slowly pulled her rifle around her back. Did we have the power for this? The weapons for cultists trained as well as Artella? I sure as hell didn't want to find out.

"The hell they aren't. The Empress if half of Merridian. We are the other half." Proximo growled.

"Proximo..."

"Take your hand off me before you lose it. You traitorous fecal matter." Proximo snarled in response.

The metallic sound of blades and rifle clicks sounded above us and I grit my teeth darting my eyes over to Alex. But her mouth was set in a grim line and she held her gloved hand over my pistol. I slowly looked down at her hand as more signs of aggression sounded.

I frowned at the side of her face under the hood.

She couldn't leave him. She could not let him fight them alone up there. We could handle them together... But alone he was signing away his life–

"I have humoured the city dweller long enough, Operator. Do not mistake our patience for anything but courtesy." The Clan Master spoke clearly over the winds in that strange off-voice.

"Yes, Operator–" Proximo sneered, "–let's keep on a familiar path. One where you betray and lie your way out of the situation."

"I'm sorry, Proximo." The return came much quieter, before I head boot steps readjusting quickly.

Proximo. God damnit Artella was taking his side and it was not ours at all–

A metallic slash was met by a loud clang.

I tensed to launch myself upward but Alex locked my arm back and pulled me into her body with vice-like strength. I stared up at her in disbelief while she merely shook her head slowly.

"What are–"

She clamped a glove over my mouth while the sounds of hand to hand combat blew through the air. But by the sound... Only Artella engaged him. The other operators of the cult must have watched unmoving–unwilling to interfere unless the leader willed it.

She was going to let him die. She can't. I won't let him–not after everything that man has done. Not after all he has yet to do. In that moment I didn't care what reputation the Deathless held–nor why it froze Alex to her core and stopped her from acting.

I twisted under her arm and made to kick her off her feet.

But this was no training environment. And Alex was not about to allow this. She moved faster than she had ever deigned to show me and snapped the wind out of my lungs with her fist. I doubled over in a wordless gasp while the sound of blades in single combat above us increased in tempo.

She tangled her leg in mine and twisted to rip the ground from under me. I used the fall to my advantage and took her body weight with us in a move Proximo himself had taught me, before kicking us both into a fall.

We rolled the down stairs harshly.

All too aware of the wasted seconds and noise I grit my teeth and aimed an elbow for her head. She caught it and locked my head into a tight grip under her arm.

"Makayla. You have no idea who they are. We cannot fight–"

I smashed my head back into her nose and slipped under her loosened hold. But she had lost patience with me entirely. I saw a flash of blood on her face before she kicked out my knee and threw her body at me to take us further down the building–further from the Deathless and Proximo.

The broken stone and metal triggered our Vanguard armour in flashes before we both landed in a heavy thump on the floor, two stories further down.

I ripped a blade from my chest and angled it at her neck.

She remained unbothered, watching my eyes intently while blood trickled down her chin.

"It's Proximo, Alex." I panted, steadying my blade on her skin, my voice cracked, "–We can't–we can't–leave him. It's him."

"We can't both die for him either. There will be nothing left to fight for." She breathed evenly.

I felt the tears building up in my eyes as we lay there in the dust, staring each other down between my blade. I let it drop to my side. Alex reached up and took half of my face in her hand.

"You know I would die for him. You know that. But I won't throw your life away when there's something left to save–"

A fusion round cracked through the air.

My heart froze over. My body went rigid.

Alex stared straight above us as if she could see through two floors of stone and rusted metal to witness the act itself.

Then not a moment too soon, a flash of a dark trench coat with a red arm hurtled past us into the open dust lands beyond. I crushed my glove into my mouth to avoid screaming. Alex was already on her feet, rushing to edge of the stone lip.

She stared downward. To whatever made that sickening crash in stone and sand.

I stared at her blood on my gloves. I saw Proximo's instead.

The world around me blurred. A ringing started low in my ear before it became all I could hear. There wasn't even the howl of wind anymore. Perhaps the distant sound of fusion engines above. Maybe the world still held colour. But it lay black and white now. Life had been drained.

I didn't need to look up to know it was him down there. It was her Second crumpled at the base of the dunes. It was the man that had led me through hell and back only to be betrayed when he truly opened his heart to the world once more. I now saw why he should have left it closed. Why the serum existed in the first place.

Reality was an unforgiving hell.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. On my arms. But I couldn't focus on a face, on a who. It was all so very far away now. I felt an emptiness open up inside myself.

The world had lost a man with a few simple pleasures in his life. He did not demand much of it. A slice of nebula cake. A clean rifle. And a man to which he could for once... trust. Even love. This wasn't fair.

I was half aware of being moved from my frozen spot. A hooded woman before me spoke freely into a comm. An empty expression on her own face. But what would I know–I felt I had nothing left to give the world anymore. Not even the woman before me.

She let it happen.