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▸▸installment seventeen ⌞ fall ⌝
𖦏ᴏɴᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀ ᴀɢᴏ.
ONE MOMENT, EXPERIMENT 99A had been consumed by a hatred so fierce it felt like it was etched into his very being. The next, his brain shut down entirely, plunging him into a darkness that seemed endless. When the world crept back in, it wasn't in the way he expected.
His senses returned in fragments—blurry images, muffled sounds, and the disorienting sensation of motion. His body felt heavy, like it wasn't fully his anymore, and he realized with growing clarity that he was being carried.
Correction—he was being hauled around like a rag doll by Wrecker.
Same difference.
Crosshair blinked hard, trying to force the fog out of his vision. His surroundings came into focus, albeit shakily. He caught sight of Wrecker's helmet, its familiar design as unyielding and sturdy as the man himself. Gunfire echoed in the background, and Crosshair managed to turn his head slightly, his movements sluggish and uncoordinated.
Hunter was there, his rifle spitting precise shots at the RDA soldiers pursuing them. Every move was calculated, every shot landed with practiced efficiency.
Further ahead, he saw two figures working furiously at the doors to what appeared to be a railcar. T
ech stood focused, his datapad in hand as he worked to bypass the locking mechanism. Beside him, a smaller figure moved with quick, sharp motions—Ecko. The sight sent a jolt through Crosshair's mind, a flash of memory surfacing unbidden.
Ecko was small, barely reaching his chest, with wide, curious eyes and a mischievous grin. The ten-year-old he remembered always clung to the edge of every mission, eager to prove himself despite his youth.
But this wasn't the boy Crosshair remembered.
Ecko was taller now, his movements sharp and confident as he raised a small pistol and fired back at the soldiers with startling precision. The look of determination on his face was unmistakable, though the same flicker of wild energy remained in his gaze.
"Get it open!" Wrecker barked, his booming voice reverberating through the chaos.
"We're working on it!" Ecko snapped back, his ears flicking in frustration as he ducked a stray bullet. Without pausing, he raised his weapon and returned fire, the sharp crack of the blaster almost lost in the cacophony of noise around them.
When did he get so big? Crosshair thought dimly. His mind struggled to process the passage of time. The last time he'd seen Ecko, the kid had been small enough to fit comfortably in his shadow, full of questions and energy. Now he was holding his own in a firefight.
