Olivia had her knife back, alongside her freedom. She could run, leave him to bleed out in the middle of the wasteland. Everything would go back to normal if she just... ran.

He was huge and could easily overpower her. But when she looked down at him, unconscious and bleeding, she remembered the bridge. Every fiber of her body cried out for her to stay despite the danger. The leather handle groaned as she squeezed it.

Her enemy. His fate in her hands.

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦

Two weeks earlier...

It was a dark and starless night. Olivia moved quietly through the woods, her electric bike buzzing softly beneath her. The terrain was broken and riddled with bumps, forcing her to fix her goggles once again.

There were no roads at this side of the border, even if she could use them. Mutants had no use for roads, not when their legs outran mankind's bikes.

Yes, it was a risk.

Olivia twisted the throttle, making the bike buzz louder.

But such was the job of deep-diving scouts like her.

Light at the corner of her eyes. It wasn't bright, but in this darkness, it was bright enough.

She followed it, slowing down as the lights multiplied in the distance, then stopped at the forest's edge.

The ruins of a building, lit at various spots.

Olivia pulled an old spyglass from her jacket and opened it, bringing it to her eye.

"There you are," she whispered.

Figures walked in and out of the ruins, their thick, unnaturally colorful skins glowing from the campfires inside. A few of them flew instead—those winged ones were particularly troublesome for her.

Olivia turned off the bike, then resumed scanning the place.

They busied themselves with their weapons, sharpening them, making new ones. Mostly spears and clubs, but there were some looted guns as well.

Olivia frowned, stopping the spyglass at a particular mutant that sat by one of the campfires—blue skinned, with spike-like growths along his arms. A spear rested against his shoulder. Something strange in his hands.

Explosives?

Unlikely. He was spinning and poking at it, a bomb would have detonated by now. No, he seemed to be making it.

Another creature called him from behind. His fingers drifted aside as he turned to answer, revealing the small object underneath them.

It was oval, made of unpainted wood. A pair of wings amateurishly carved on it.

She knew that shape well. It was a common one in coming-of-age celebrations back home.

What is it doing here?

Olivia shook her head and closed the spyglass.

A rustle of wings above.

She held her breath, waiting for the flying mutant to leave, then pulled a stained notebook and compass from her jacket once it was gone.

Olivia had the map in her head already.

Her eyes lingered on the compass for a while, letting the nettle settle down completely...

It stopped.

She snapped the compass shut and took the notebook. A retractable sharpie attached to the binding.

Click.

Coordinates on the page.

Click.

She glanced at the ruins one last time, then returned the notebook to her pocket.

And just like that, with the stroke of a sharpie, the mission was a success.

Olivia flicked the key, turned the handlebars, and drove away with a buzz.

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦

"Are you sure, Liv?" Her colleague said, holding the edge of the notebook. "If these coordinates are even slightly off the upper brass is going to kill me."

Paris wore a ragged aviator cap. A few rusty medals on his chest.

"I might have mixed up the numbers," she said with a smirk. "It happens."

"Don't play with me, Liv." He put the notebook in his pocket. "Rockets are bloody hard to come around."

"I'm just a scout." She shrugged. "What can I do?"

Paris turned and walked away, but he didn't stop complaining.

"Everything's hard to come around. If only we had more bullets for those freaks..."

Olivia chuckled, stretching wide. But as the grumpy pilot disappeared into the crowd, she realized she had come home earlier than expected. Her next assignment was only in a few days.

Now what?

She looked around. The HQ's cafeteria was lively in the early morning, buzzing with a cacophony of footsteps and low chatter. Soldiers with makeshift rifles, nurses in patched up uniforms, clerks...

Coffee. That's what she needed.

There was a machine beside the entrance.

She crossed the room and placed a mug under the dispenser.

Childlike voices reached her as the coffee poured. There was a school nearby.

Olivia took the steamy mug and blew it, before taking a sip.

"How can machine coffee taste like socks?" she muttered.

Who knew? Everything was hard to come around.

The voices grew louder, then a group of chatty kids stormed through the open gates beside her. She happened to know the loudest of them, the bee right at the head of the swarm.

Olivia arched a stern eyebrow at him.

Marcus froze as he saw her, the rest of the students continuing without him.

"I can explain," he said.

She lowered the cup.

"What are you even doing here? Where's your teacher?"

"The class is doing a tour through the military installations. We just went ahead of him, that's all."

Olivia breathed easily again.

"Right. Not as bad as I imagined."

"Told you. Save for the fact we locked Mr. Brown in the classroom."

"Excuse me?"

He raised his hands. Something bulged slightly through his shirt. A necklace of sorts.

"Joking!"

She stared at him, speechless, then sighed.

"How was your party yesterday? I'm sorry I missed it. Happy birthday, by the way."

He scratched his head, a worried look on his face.

"Yeah, I know you're busy, Oli. I... I'm just glad you're okay."

She smiled and messed up his hair slightly.

"Of course I'm okay. Do you think a measly mutant would be match for mankind's greatest scout?"

"Yeah, right." Marcus snorted at her jest, but his eyes weren't as amused. "Is it true that the mutants act like us sometimes? I mean... Doesn't that mean they are smarter than we give them credit for?"

Olivia blinked.

"Our enemies are cunning mimics, that's for sure. They imitate human behavior to trick us. But I already know that, so don't worry about me."

Marcus looked at her in silence, then nodded.

"Alright."

It didn't seem he believed her entirely.

"Anyways, show me what you got for your thirteenth birthday," she said.

"Sure, but I got just one thing with me right now."

Marcus reached under his shirt through the collar and pulled something into view.

A metallic necklace, oval-shaped with wings, fully painted.

The pitch-black coffee swayed in the cup beneath.

Olivia looked down, staring at it in silence.

"I should make my own coffee," she said. "This one tastes like socks, did you know that?"

Marcus frowned, pulling the thing back inside his shirt.

"No, I didn't—"

Shouts coming from outside.

A breathless, disheveled man burst through the entrance. His shirt was frayed on the shoulder, as if he'd slammed it against a door multiple times...

Marcus' eyes shot wide.

"I gotta go," he said and bolted after his class.

Mr. Brown ran after the pranksters, cursing them.

Paris returned. He stopped beside her, watching the chaos unfold in the cafeteria with her, notebook in hand.

"I don't know what to do with this kid," she said. "His father was a good soldier, but I'm not sure I'm the right person for the job. I mean, I'm barely at home with all the missions."

"Don't overthink it," Paris said. "At least he has someone to look after him. I didn't have anybody."

She nodded.

"You're right."

"Of course I am. Anyways." He turned to face her. "We got them."

"Got who?"

"Who? The mutants, of course!"

"Already?"

"Yep. Already." Paris handed her the notebook back. "The entire hideout was blown to pieces. Not a single rocket wasted."

Her eyebrows arched.

Olivia took the notebook.

"That's... great news. Do you think we'll be able to push that front further now?"

Paris raised his palms, laughing.

"Whoa, slow down there, partner. It's not that simple. But..." he said, sticking his hands inside his pockets. "It's going to cost us a lot less now. Thanks to you, Liv."

She nodded with a smile.

He turned, walking the same way he came. Complaining.

"I wish I had done it myself, though..."

Olivia sat down on the table behind her, yawning despite herself.

The image of a poorly carved wooden necklace came to her mind.

It disappeared when she rubbed her eyes. Tired.

I... need a nap, not coffee.

She abandoned the mug, some cold coffee still swirling at the bottom, and left.

By the stroke of a sharpie...

The fire cracked nearby. Orange lights danced across the walls made of hides. Children's voices.

They shrieked loudly as Kai ran after them making monstrous growls.

Cries of joy.

"I'm going to eat you. Argh!"

He laughed as they screamed again at his terrible acting.

Their mother sat on the floor near the fire.

"Are you sure you don't have better things to do, Kai?" Mira asked.

"Don't worry. I want to stay with them until my brother arrives."

A faint smile grew on her lips, but not enough to hide the worry on her face.

"Alright."

Kai turned back to the kids. Half a dozen little devils, blue skins like their father.

It took some courage to raise kids in this world. Or maybe it was something else, he didn't know for sure.

Looking at them, while they looked at him with puzzled expressions and wide eyes, Kai wondered if he had it in him as well…

He raised his hands in the air like claws.

"Where were we? Argh!"

Something greater than a warrior's courage.

The flap swooshed open. They all stopped and turned at the noise, their excitement vanishing as the figure that entered the tent was not who they expected to be.

It was a warrior of red skin like himself, but grayed by time, riddled with scars.

"You have been summoned, Kai."

Kai's muscles tensed by instinct as his hands clenched and unclenched.

"I'm sorry, Orion. But I won't be leaving until my brother arrives—"

"There was another bombing."

His hands stopped.

One of the kids spoke up.

"What does that mean?"

It was hard to believe, but Kai knew exactly what that meant. He could hear his own breath.

He made himself speak, before the kids could ask anything else.

"I see."

There was painful silence behind him where Mira sat.

"Are you ready for battle?" Orion asked.

Suddenly, no. For the first time, Kai wasn't ready. But he'd never say that.

Had grief turned him into a coward?

He spoke despite himself.

"Haven't we had enough?"

What was it? That voice that came from him wasn't his own.

Orion frowned. He never saw the man frown before.

"Excuse me?"

Mira broke out in tears at last.

Kai opened his mouth, but nothing came out this time. He lowered his head.

Orion did not seem pleased, his voice turned harsh.

"We'll retaliate tonight, and you'll be leading the vanguard." He turned to leave. "Do your duty."

As the tent closed, and Mira's tears crashed, thus came the questions.

Where is Kade? Where is Father?

War. Humans. Hatred.

It is the end of the world.

◊ ◊ ◊

Spears all around. Faces of men, warriors, mutants they called them, under a night sky full of stars. Many more followed behind, but this was the vanguard—the forlorn hope—which meant the ones who die first.

Kai wasn't in the mood for speeches, and he doubted anyone wanted to hear anything at this point. So, he squeezed the shaft of his glaive—a massive spear-like weapon with a curved blade—and raised it to signal the attack.

They marched in the open, as the humans had cut down the trees for visibility, leaving only stumps behind. But it was dark, and they hadn't moved against this remote outpost in a long time. The sentries were likely asleep or bored out of their minds.

Kai was the first to step into the human's line of sight and within the reach of their guns. He waited, watching the trenches stretch in the distance.

Not a single shot was fired, to confirm his suspicion.

"Let's go."

He trotted. The others followed in silence, just the rustle of rapid footsteps behind him, growing in speed and number.

A bright light pinched his eyes as an enemy spotlight flashed directly at him. Panicked voices began to erupt at various points of the trenches.

The sentries woke up.

Erratic gunfire cracked, muzzles flashing in the dark as the warriors swept through the field. Cries of pain rang out behind him as the first of them fell.

When the humans' features became visible, Kai leaped, bullets whistling past his face.

Half a dozen men froze, staring at him as if they knew what was about to happen but couldn't believe it.

It was hard to believe.

With a roar, Kai swept his glaive wide in an arc.

It was the end of the world

Makeshift rifles clacked against the floor, their torsos falling from their bodies.

Mutants swarmed into the trenches, and the chaos of close-quarters combat began.

Spears and daggers. Limbs blown off at pointblank. Some humans panicked, unpinning grenades right before getting impaled, taking everyone around down with them, including their own.

One of the green skinned warriors emerged above the trenches. His head flung back as if drinking air, chest swelling. A viscous jet burst from his mouth as he spit corrosive, steaming bile all over the human fighters below.

Victory was near. They likely wouldn't need the main force that hadn't even arrived yet.

Kai breathed easily again.

The spitting warrior let out a war cry above them. Others followed suit, cheering along the conquered trenches, when someone pelted him with bullets from afar.

They fell silent as his body dropped limp into the trench.

Startled, Kai turned towards where the shots came from.

A maniacal cackle rang out across the battlefield, alongside more rapid gunfire and cries of pain from men he couldn't see.

A jeep emerged into view, riding alongside the trenches. There was a machine gun mounted at the rear, flashing at the muzzle as it mowed down his warriors below. Someone behind it.

Kai looked around him, perplexed.

The battle was over. The main force would soon be here. Those men in that lonely jeep were committing suicide, for what?

The very young man behind the gun laughed hysterically under his pilot cap, medals glinting on his chest.

A demon worse than him.

But the battle was over, and men were dying for nothing. The glaive's shaft groaned in his tightening grip as the jeep came his way.

Kai crawled out of the trenches and took a couple steps forward. He stuck the bottom of his weapon into the ground, propelling himself towards the jeep.

"HA HA HA—"

His laughter burst into a guttural wet gurgle as Kai smashed the wooden pole right in the middle of his face.

The boy flew off the back of jeep and fell in the mud, choking in his own blood. Seeing that, his transport turned and fled, abandoning him to his fate.

"Enough," Kai muttered and turned to leave himself.

Something hissed behind him, as if someone unsheathed a blade. He glanced over his shoulder.

The human was on his feet, a mess of blood and mud. A long knife in his hand.

He charged towards Kai with a mad look on his face, screaming at the top of his lungs.

Kai doubted he could even see straight.

He stepped aside and smashed the blunt part of his weapon against the man's stomach, who doubled over in a coughing fit.

The long knife glinted again, shooting upwards in a desperate attempt to reach his face.

Kai dodged with ease, frowning.

The ground trembled beneath his feet. Noises of an army approaching.

The main force was almost here, yet this human was still trying to kill him. He swung the blade and missed again.

Kai gritted his teeth and punched him in the face with his free hand, multiple times, getting angrier with each blow, until the boy fell back into the mud, landing hard on his rear.

Kai filled his lungs and shouted.

"ENOUGH!"

Between the bruises, cuts and swells, his eyes widened, looking up at him in silence.

He reached for the knife again.

Kai hissed, his features contorting as he raised the glaive above his head for a finishing blow.

The boy took the knife and ran away, disappearing among the trees.

Kai exhaled in relief, his tired arms falling limp to his side as an army slowly emerged behind him.

Orion came up beside him and patted his shoulder.

"Well done."

Kai shrugged off his hand and turned, leaving the battlefield without a word.

Earlier that morning, the mutants struck down General Owlson of the First Army with a spear. Olivia watched alongside his mourning soldiers as his body was carried away in a bloody stretcher. It was a black day for humanity.

"Take aim!" the officer said.

Bolt-action rifles clacked in the distance.

"Fire!"

Smoke engulfed the firing squad as they shot their rifles in unison. A few meters ahead of them, the group of mutants who had sneaked inside their camp and assassinated the general collapsed lifelessly to the ground.

The soldiers cheered as vengeance was served, but revenge didn't solve their situation. They were still outnumbered, without leadership and reinforcements were nowhere in sight.

Olivia turned and walked towards the vehicles, thinking about the assassins.

They knew this would be their fate. One couldn't expect to murder a general and live to tell the tale, but theirs was a savage warrior culture like no other. A fitting end. Olivia thought they deserved no better.

Paris was already mounted on the back of his jeep despite finding himself in a sorry state, bandages wrapped around his swollen face. He had a sizeable squad with him.

"Let's go, Olivia." He loaded the machine gun. "It's payback time."

"What are you up to, Paris?"

"The chain of command has been broken, if you haven't noticed, and we can't even coordinate a retreat without risking getting smacked from behind." Paris looked at her. "I'm high-ranking enough that I can lead these fine gentlemen here into their deaths, but I need a scout for this mission."

She crossed her arms.

"Which is?"

"Since General Constantino is a coward and left us to die, we'll cut off our enemies' reinforcements as well, to buy our dear officers time to agree on a plan before we get swept off the map." He spat on the ground. "Bickering idiots."

"And how do you plan to do that?"

"That's for you to find out."

Olivia arched an eyebrow.

"Do you want me to destroy the mutant army while I am it as well, Your Majesty?"

Paris scoffed.

"Listen, I'm not going crazy. There's an unpassable river behind them which would take days to go around, but their numbers keep increasing by the day, which means—"

"There's a bridge."

Paris raised his arms.

"There's a bloody bridge!"

Olivia sighed.

"Alright," she said, pulling the keys from her pocket. "Let's do it."

"She said yes, lads! Let's blow that bridge to pieces."

The disorderly squad entered the cars with loud cheers behind him.

"Don't get me wrong, they seem more like a highly motived mob than a squad," she said.

"They'll do."

"Alright."

Olivia mounted her bike, glancing up at Paris. He was always a bit bitter, but this time was different.

"What exactly happened to you, Paris? You spoke to no one save for the higher ups."

He clicked his tongue.

"They killed everybody, and I escaped by a thread. That's it. Are you happy?"

"Everybody? No one in the garrison survived other than you?"

"Of course not. Those animals take no prisoners."

"That's vile..."

Paris looked away.

Olivia frowned. Something was most definitely bothering him today, but she thought it was better not to press the subject, especially not before battle.

He checked the squad one last time, and seeing that everyone was ready, Paris smacked the side of his jeep.

"Let's roll."

◊ ◊ ◊

Kai said what he came to say and crossed his arms, surrounded by silent officers. Orion smashed his fist against the table, glaring at him. He would have dismissed Kai straight away had they been alone, but concern was starting to show on the officers' scarred faces.

"Good men died to give us this chance," Orion said. "We must strike while the humans are leaderless!"

Kai didn't budge.

"We don't know where the second human army went," he said. "They disappeared from the battlefield many days ago and we haven't heard from them again."

The officers murmured, arguing amongst themselves.

"It could appear behind us when we move out," one of them said.

"What if it's not a trap? We'd be wasting our advantage."

Kai turned to face them, something else a lot more important than strategy on his mind.

"We haven't evacuated the civilians yet. That bridge is unstable, and it needs constant patch-ups just to keep it from sending crossers to the bottom of the rapids."

Orion gritted his teeth.

"If we lose this region, they are good as dead anyways. Where else can we find fertile enough lands to feed that many mouths?"

"So, it's an impasse. We can abandon our people now, or risk abandoning them later," Kai said.

The officers were starting to agree with him.

Orion shook his head in disappointment, closing his eyes as they argued.

One of the warriors stepped up as they seemed to reach a consensus.

"Very well. We'll wait, warrior Kai."

Kai suppressed a smile.

"Thank—"

"But." The officer raised his hand, cutting him short. "This is not your place. Which means you'll be responsible for everything that happens because of your unorthodox strategy."

Orion opened his eyes.

"Are you ready for that, Kai?"

Kai exhaled, relieved.

"I am."

"You better go oversee that bridge then. The garrison is in your hands."

◊ ◊ ◊

Finding the bridge was the easy part. It was a huge, unwieldy thing hovering above a violent river. Between breaks and fixes, groups of mutant warriors trickled in from the other side. It was raised behind an ancient city in ruins, which they filled with tents and used a fortified camp.

Olivia watched the garrison through her old spyglass.

They brought a dozen humans tied by the wrists forward and threw them on their knees.

She cursed under her breath, recognizing them from Paris' squad. There was a strange bulge under the jackets of some of them. Concealed explosives. The mutants didn't seem to notice them.

They most likely tried to kamikaze the bridge on their own.

"I can't believe these guys..."

Someone new was coming up.

It was a red-skinned mutant warrior, accompanied by others. His bare torso was covered in healed scars, bone spikes protruding from his muscular shoulders. Judging by his sheer size, and the almost noble way he carried himself, that must have been the boss.

He stood before the captured men, scanning them with black eyes, a massive glaive in his hand.

Yellow puddles of urine formed beneath some of them.

She remembered Paris' words.

"Of course not. Those animals take no prisoners."

The mission was a failure before it even started.

She refused to watch the incoming execution. Olivia sighed, and was halfway through closing her spyglass, when she noticed a commotion in the distance.

She brought it back to her eye.

The mutants argued heatedly with their boss, but the latter didn't seem convinced.

He waved his hand dismissively, ending the discussion.

They carried the prisoners away and chained them inside a see-through, ruined shackle without a roof, then dispersed, going back to their chores. At the same time, a group of mutants arrived at the edge of the camp, civilians by the looks of them.

She turned her attention back to the boss, curious to see what this was all about.

He led them towards the bridge himself, and they seemed to grow at ease around him.

Refugees?

Olivia snapped the spyglass shut and rode back towards Paris' hideout to warn him.

This was bad. A race against time.

Reckless squad members aside, they couldn't bring down the bridge without those incendiary bombs, and who knew when the mutants would finally sniff them out. Until then, their numbers would just keep increasing. But also...

Did he spare them? No... He went against the others to spare them.

Olivia frowned.

Some questions demanded answers.