Flames bathed Teinova. To abate it, Zazavin's saliva fell directly on her.
Gazing into her orange eyes, concern overcame him. "Teinova, you're go—ACHOOOOOO!" He felt congested. From then on, he spoke in a nasal tone. "You're good?"
"Somewhat."
The flames died down under the robust saliva coating. Much of her hair, skin, and uniform was gnawed away leaving unsightly patches and spots. Teinova's headscarf also vanished alongside her magnificent glow. She became decrepit and scarred.
"Damn it, Durin. Look what you did to her!" Anger seeped into him, but his eyes told more.
"No, no, no. Durin did nothing wrong." She smiled and touched him.
Now I'm getting concerned. Durin knew he was truly in the wrong.
"And Zazavin should sneeze softer. He's too loud." Teinova was mentally out of whack.
Zazavin didn't bother to respond. It wasn't her fault for being like this, it was DURIN. He noticed that the soldiers on the petal above were gearing up for bombardment.
Durin scooped her into his fingers and placed her on his back. "These gusts are really intense. I feel that I can get blown away any minute."
"Yeah. It's on a different level close up."
"Teinova. Stay awake, okay?"
"No problem. You're a good leader."
She's really, really screwed up. He pulled out his energy hook and squeezed it. Enemy projectiles couldn't prevent it from latching onto the edge of the rose petal.
Unfortunately, the Defence Force's fire was too intense. He released his grip to perform evasive manoeuvres.
"My skin's starting to scratch." Zazavin couldn't stop to relieve himself. It wasn't the time to do so. "As the problem with my nostrils isn't enough."
"Just breath through them, even though it's bad for your health."
It was effective to a point. The improvement was minor.
"What about my itching?" The rash below his uniform felt increasingly unbearable.
"I can't always come up with solutions, Zazavin!"
"Okay. You didn't have to be like that."
A Minor Artillery Inspector stationed on Leaflet commanded the start of the next stage of heavy fire: The Rebounders.
Their barrels were slim and filled with thick metal shells to wear down the invading force.
As the Rebounders clawed ever closer to Veil, a yellow hue rose in intensity, replacing the bland soil. Its exponential growth worried the soldiers, Wixin, and even Cascachu had no comprehension of what he unleashed.
Salt made its way to his eyes. No longer there was a blinding light. He allowed nature to take hold.
I shouldn't try to fight. I should let it take me.
He forced his eyelids tight and remained calm. His body jostled hard against the coast of the saltwater lake he created.
Durin saw him and shouted, "You want us, Cascachu?"
"Where you be?"
"Just take your left and you'll reach us."
The frequency and fierceness of the armaments spiked. This did not go unnoticed by Zazavin. "The armaments are getting crazy. We have to move now!"
"I'll say the rest while we run."
There's no point in complaining. Just deal with it.
Durin went at a gentle speed but made long strides while flicking globules to make interceptions. Cascachu made chase with a few subordinates.
Wixin rose from the lake bed, his bloated clothing deflating. His head faced the depressing sky with exhaustion in his breathing chamber.
* * *
"It look like nothing there, miss. We shoot it up and nothing happened." The stranger remained missing.
"Well, throw all the garbage in the incinerator. He might come out then."
Her plan worked. He burst out of the bag with words from his palms that collided with the two soldiers and their flares.
The one-legged being threw her naturally sharpened fingertips at the approaching stranger. His right leg bounced off the wall and went around her. The adrenaline nullified the gaping wound on his foot as he ran back to the streets to see a thinner crowd of soldiers. He wondered if many were repositioned.
The stranger got to a food stand and hid behind it. While there, he saw a bottle with brownish-blackish innards on the ground that pushed an odour quite powerful.
He took it up and sniffed it, burning his nostrils. His body and senses were revamped.
A vehicle became visible within a hoverstation—a place where hovercraft were parked. His golden eyes with touches of copper were barely over the stand.
Now. His mind gave the signal.
The stranger got to the hovercraft with little difficulty. The vehicle had its durable glass cover shattered with one strike and he plopped himself in with soldiers rushing him.
The glass splinters didn't unnerve him while seated, but his body temperature felt out of whack. Fluctuations of heat and cold gave way to a mental shutdown. The conches he hunted from the murky swamps bolted out his stomach before passing out.
A soldier cut his acting short. "Nah boi, that work real best."
"I told you it would but you didn't want believe me." His compatriot responded.
The hooded stranger's defeat was assured by a sole item in the back seat: a fur coat.
* * *
"You understand the plan, Zazavin?"
"Yeah. Keep Teinova safe, okay?"
"Of course."
Durin ran off with Teinova while Zazavin allowed them to chase him after loudmouthed that Cascachu was a streaming streak of shit.
"You go deal with him." Cascachu pointed at Durin.
"The slim youth, bossman?"
"Yeah. Go deal with him. I'll deal with the ball that thinks he could get away with insulting me."
The subordinates broke away to execute his command. Durin took a small turn and brought out the hook. It snaked to Cascachu and took over his exterior.
This did little to impact his pace. Rather, Durin was dragged through dirt while holding on. He remained face-first to ensure that Teinova sustained minimal damage. Also, his eye sockets kept upright for her to hold onto.
Zazavin glanced back with a small chuckle. Good. Let's see how it feels to get injured.
He shot out his tongue once near Leaflet to go up, leaving peculiar and intricate markings.
Cascachu followed in earnest. Jogging and jumping hundreds of metres was easy for him. However, he didn't anticipate Zazavin's tongue to tap against air itself to push him from Mago. He went down while the being of randomness had no means to stop himself from landing on the rose petal. Cascachu could not use his power against anything that had no physical form. Code Cero was activated, diverting all fire to him immediately.
With no armaments restricting them, Zazavin raced back up, and Durin latched on for a quick ride to Mago.
* * *
"Is the craft ready?" Ippe ignored the outdoors where a force field lining prevented its entrance. His boots of black opposed his white shirt.
"Yeah, bossman. It's set." The triangular craft with sharp, downward tips roared to the telepathic command of the pilot.
"Right. 'Leh we go' as you all like to say."
Ippe glanced at the warning from his communicator. "It looks like Cascachu has finally arrived at Leaflet. It's a shame that our skilled inventor didn't fully put in place the anti-Cascachu system in time."
Ral, the gumdrop-shaped pilot, didn't hear him. That Ees does get on my nerves real dread. Murder should not be spectacular, it should be basic.
She brought down the glass covering the cockpit and took off by focusing her thoughts on the length of flesh on her forehead.
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