His Rival

An Early Grave

Hello everyone, Jess here!

This next chapter is a tad longer than the last(38.7 pages/ 13,255 words). So be sure to take breaks as needed.

If you have any questions or comments about this chapter, let me know; I'd like to hear from you!

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

*Trigger Warning: Slight Themes of Sexual Harassment*

A deep, rattling groan burst from your chest as your eyes snapped open, grimacing at how every millimeter of your armor's mesh stuck to your skin, how the blast had pummeled you straight through the murky brown water and into the sediment at the shoreline. Your intestines coiled into knots at just the pungent, rotten smell, shuddering at how the ice-cold sludge, ash and mud penetrated through the gashes of your uniform, sticking to your skin.

Every muscle cried out in agony as you tore yourself from the shoreline, pulse barely audible over the dull ringing that pierced through your eardrums. Quiznack, just how hard had that blast hit you? Judging by the amount of fallen trees and scattered shrapnel, how the very ground beneath your feet had crackled and caved in, you were lucky to still be in one piece.

But any ounce of relief was ripped from your system, lead cascading into your limbs at the smoke that burned at your lungs, remnants of flame scorching away at the edges of your vison. In the same instant that your eyes locked onto the limp form just ahead, your heart fell to your boots, throat going dry at how their Marmoran armor had been blown to bits. Nearly every inch of exposed lavender flesh had been clawed away by the blast, burgundy gashes so deep that they were nearly purple, oozing with alien blood.

"No" you barely managed to breathe as you rushed to the scene. Extending a hand to the remains of his chest plate, a volt shot up your spine, his sudden stillness slicing through your veins. Whoever this Blade was under the mask, Darin or Olzard, they had died before you had even traveled five miles from the drop zone!

Wait, just how long had it been since you had touched down? Apparently long enough for your unfortunate companion to bleed out to death, pupils darting in every direction as you flinched away from his corpse. The sludge and muck had likely braced your impact, but there had been another accompanying you here. And it didn't take you long to find him, slamming both hands around your mouth and nose.

No wonder this place smelled so foul, all of his exposed skin had been charred as dark as his armor! With just one glance at how his mask had shattered in half, his lower limbs nowhere to be seen, the same realization struck your chest like an arrow. Darin's signature snarl you had known for weeks on end had practically been melted off his face, green-hot acid exploding in your stomach at the sheer amount of bones and ligaments that protruded through.

By some miracle you managed to rise to your feet without retching, swallowing hard as you glanced over your surroundings. Since the latter had been Darin, then the first was Olzard, yet another one of Joard's cronies. These were the same men that had been shooting glares at you for weeks on end, lunging at every opportunity to challenge your authority in Kolivan's ranks.

So why was this affecting you more than all of those assassination missions combined? You had spent days, sometimes even entire weeks preparing to take out your next victim, knowing full well every last atrocity they had committed against the free peoples of this universe.

But if your experiences in space had taught you anything, it was impossible to prepare for every possible outcome. There'd always be that extraneous circumstance, that worse-case scenario. And with your luck, that disaster would always strike at the most importune times. The Olkarion explosion, the tragedy on Sendak's cruiser, and now this, becoming the last survivor of your team after a freak accident.