Multiverse-Crafter

26 - EAT THIS

[Adam Tauros]

Today, my steps lead me to a nightmare scenario.

A White Fang outpost, once a strategic stronghold, now lies in ruins. The air is filled with the metallic smell of blood and the sickly stench of death as mutilated bodies lie strewn across the ground.

We were responding to a distress signal that requested my help. Something warranted my personal presence, other members warned me that it could be a trap, but I assured them that no human or robot would be able to overcome me in combat.

"Commander Tauros." Says a lynx faunus who accompanied me on this mission. "You need to see this."

I respond with a nod and follow him to the place I'm needed.

My heart beats wildly as I walk through the rubble and dismembered corpses. Pain and fury intertwine in my chest as I recognize some of the victims.

My friends, my brothers in arms, lay scattered across the floor like broken dolls, their faces frozen in expressions of terror and pain. The sight of the cruelty that befell them fills me with helpless rage, a fury that burns through my veins like white-hot lava.

'What happened here? Who could inflict such carnage?' I think in silence.

Further ahead, two of my agents were examining the radio and next to the equipment was the body of a young Faunus.

"The distress signal that called you came from here." He mentioned the technician evaluating the radio.

As soon as I get closer, I stop when I notice the young faunus' situation. He was no more than sixteen years old.

Both legs and one of his arms were cut off. At first glance, it looked like the cut wounds had been cauterized with a hot iron. His horns broken, his skin torn open from brutal blows.

"What kind of monster would do such a thing?" Asks the technician.

"Darksteel?" He suggests the Faunus lynx who accompanied me here.

I remain silent, I let them believe that this was the work of Noir Arc, but the body of the young man in front of me makes it clear that this was not an act of pure sadism.

His legs and one of his arms were cut off to ensure he couldn't get out of where the victim was placed. His arm was spared so he could use the radio and call for help, a cruel but effective tactic.

"How long has it been since he died?" I ask in a dry tone.

"A few hours, probably from shock from the injuries."

I stand up thoughtfully, examining the slaughter.

Doors were broken, but no important structures such as beams, towers or walls were torn down. The place just needs to be cleaned and its doors repaired to be useful again.