CHAPTER 36: A Plague's Aura

Alex dropped down to lie on the floor, breathing intensely to keep up with his body's needs. Wrestling those machines was one of the hardest things he had done in his life so far. He was still in disbelief that his stupidity hadn't backfired yet. Now all he had to do was wait. It could take minutes, hours, or days. This device sure knew how to drag its feet. As he scooted himself towards the wall to sit up and rest, he overheard the woman talking into a radio, and then to a man beside her. She gave off a calm yet strict and crabby vibe. The man beside her definitely felt it, too, showing in his eyes a twinge of social fear, like every sentence coming from her mouth was a passive-aggressive insult. Both of them were new to Alex.

"Ma'am, two more droids spotted at the western entrance." The man said, talking to a person on his own channel.

"Of course they were..." Mamba responded

Just then, the thundering of the bombs ceased. All went quiet.

"Phew" Alex said. The woman paused.

"Not phew... They're prepared." The woman said tensely. "They're ready to launch their main assault." Cracks, like a whip. A muffled voice, echoing from the halls that Alex recognized immediately. Frilo. Another voice. Laughing. Not a malicious laugh, but a playful, taunting one. Then he came soaring. With the speed and fluidity of a high-speed magnetic train, a boy stood levitating mid-kick inches from the woman's face.

"I thought you said you were as fast as lightning, Mamba?" Frilo remarked cockily as his blade rested in front of her, locking Alwin's foot in place. Alwin's suit was uniquely peculiar. Large, thick, bulky metal leggings with a thinner, more elastic top half covering his upper body. Those legs packed a serious punch, Frilo's arms and hands were trembling immensely.

"Everyone, don't drop your guard! He's LightBind, a Plague! Cut off the exits, we can't allow him to escape! He's doing recon! Mamba, jam any transmissions!"

The kid launched himself backwards with some kind of thruster on the sides of his legs and arms. The devices seemed to emit a solid white light illuminating from certain points on the machine and a translucent hue through the air close to the dots. Alex had never seen anything like it.

"Oh shit." The boy looked genuinely worried, controlling his breathing to clear his head. He launched himself towards the door, the white hue concentrating more heavily as he delivered kicks in the air to accelerate himself. It looked like the hue had created soft, malleable platforms for him to almost bounce off of. It was a very strange sight, a mix of conventional propulsion and some weird kick-off. A unique and haphazard opponent indeed. The Brotherhood members wasted no time to shoot. The opposite side of the room dived to their bellies to take a low stance while shooting, while the exit Alwin was advancing towards had its men shot without worry of cross-fire. Lead rained up at the boy as a burst of confident playfulness washed over his face. Using the mid-air "platforms", he twisted and almost slithered through the bullets. Sliding to just a meter away from gunpoint, Alwin dropped down to below the Brotherhood members shoulders, his body now completely horizontal. As they were about to pull the trigger, they noticed Alwin had purposefully taken the dropdown to get the men across into the line of fire. He was a Plague, with information, none-the-less, but he was probably prepared to dodge at the last second anyway. So they hesitated. Alwin tucked in his arms and narrowly made it between one man's legs, slipping between both the bullets and the legs attempting to clamp down on him. But something wasn't right. Alwin's head smashed on the ground as a bullet and a sword entered each arm. Alwin wasn't the only speedster in the room. Frilo's boot squashed the side of Alwin's head into the cracked floor. Alwin fought the urge to cry. Alex felt somewhat bad for the poor kid.

"You're not going anywhere, and neither are your friends. You've made me stray from the world of color and are going to pay the price. And by the way, I'm the fastest" Frilo said semi-viciously. What did he mean by that? Alex wondered. Then he saw that Frilo's eyes were both closed. But why? As Frilo aimed his gun at Alwin's head preparing to finish up, Alwin's painful expression turned into an impassioned smirk. Alwin's body seemed to smear, it moved so fast. Frilo was knocked into freefall, and Alwin was now belly-up. He kicked the suspended Frilo with one leg, and hooked it so both were launched horizontally in separate directions. Frilo towards the exit, and Alwin towards the Brotherhood.

"You're all..." Alwin said as he jolted himself towards the frontmost line that was attempting to cover themselves by fire. With a final burst that shook the walls of the building, he was point-blank in one Brotherhood's face. He swung around his foot, channeling all of the force smoothly and effortlessly into the man's arm, causing him to crumple like paper. The paralyzed man was launched into the few others beside him, throwing them off completely. But it didn't end there. Alwin chased and out-maneuvered every single Brotherhood member who shot, slashed, and threw arms. He was flying around them countering them with quick, heavy strikes followed by more quick dodging as the next challenger squared up. It was both mesmerizing and horrifying, the art of three-dimensional combat. Limitless possibilities with that many degrees of freedom. No Brotherhood member was prepared for such an odd, rare technique. Abruptly, he stopped and crash-landed onto the floor as he struggled to get something off of him that was causing him great distress and pain. The hair-thin wires that woman Mamba used.

Alwin's muscles were spasming. The wires must've been conducting electricity. Alwin managed to crouch on his feet as Mamba shot her launcher, a canister speeding towards him. One great jump easily evaded the canister and stripped the wires holding him hostage. He used his boots to re-route himself towards a wall. He could not afford a strike from the back. Frilo re-entered the room, his breathing impeded by his splintered ribs.

"Alex, join us! I think I've found something out!" Frilo shouted. Alex pulled off his staff from his back. It wasn't much, but it was certainly more useful against a person than those machines. Surrounded by the trio and the remaining conscious Brotherhood members, Alwin looked around at his assumed demise. Fifteen versus one. How unfair. As Alwin saw the world around him point guns and make preparations to end him, a sense of true mortal danger fell over him. He, Alwin, was going to die. Why? He hadn't killed anybody, and he wasn't a bad person, in his own eyes. Why the looks of such raw hatred? He had dreams, just like everyone else. And he had to do what he had to do to progress them. Life. He had only barely made it into his teens, yet he had experienced so much. The rubble, the bombs, mom and dad's crumpled hands as the rocks were lifted from the apartment. Chandler. Yelling. Alwin could only make out one word from his lips as a towering man with that estranged grin slashed into him all those years ago. One word. Run. Run. RUN. Faster than you've ever done before. Past the buildings, the doors, and the dangers. But now was not the time to run away. It was not the time to cower and hide. Now was the time to give chase. To hunt. To overpower. To overcome. As Alwin's legs reached the wall, something became different about him. Everyone noticed it. The sense of urgency, the sense of gruesomeness in the air. The aura of a predator, the sickening aura of a plague. So that's how they got their name. His eyes were now a silver-blue. They glowed with a glint more savage and determined than any other. There it was. A plague's true power. One jump. If you could call it that. The wall, ceiling, and floor fissured into an instant demolition. Like a railgun, he charged at the group, whipping around to cause a great impact on the floor. Chunks of debris, showering everywhere. Those in the immediate vicinity were torn to shreds, others a couple meters away were gashed open but alive. The base's foundation was solid concrete, yet it seemed as brittle as glass now, with how Alwin handled it. Alwin had created a hole that was half his height deep, and many times as wide. The concrete had crumbled like sand. Alex was in shock. Midnight was apparently a much higher threat than all of the plagues combined. That's terrifying. That was the only thought Alex could muster inside his mind. He stood there in mind-bending disbelief. Some shards had grazed his stomach, but he didn't even notice. Frilo and Mamba looked at each other. This was going to be a long fight.