▫Runaway from the Sentries (1) ▫

Being excellent means 'less,' if only they knew she trained hard to become what she is now. 

But hidden... How long can she hold on to that? 

'A being has bought me.' She bit her lower lip with anger until she tasted cold, bitter blood. Her blood. 

'Deep Ten Million Yors is my worth? Worthless dragshit!' 

The run continues as she makes a second 'No plan.' She does not even have to guess if the sentries will become more annoyed as they go further and further away from the main building. It did not matter to her. She knew that she had become faster as she grew. She did not get a chance to glimpse her speed; however, she did feel that way. Fast. She used to wonder what it feels like to be chased by armored beings—now she finally found the answer: Wickedly enjoyable! At Warzone Headquarters, she has not tried being chased by her equals. Equals are wearing Dark Blue with green uniforms—they are the scariest. Including her. She was like an abandoned planet, cold, far-away, alone. Not quite approachable. The beings who know her name always put some interesting stories about her past that she doe not know happened—great storytellers for a non-human. 

Cold air passed through her starry cheeks, going in a straight direction. She could not tell if that was the air or her developing excitement of being chased by the sentries. The elder got her to do a marathon by just handing a task. 'Light, I hope you are holding good on me.' She managed to think about the item without knowing it went back inside her, between the lower neck and the upper chest. She was too active to realize it. 

A familiar scream got Ciana's lips to curve slightly to the side; indeed, it was not a smirk. "Go, Go!" The sentries were not going to kill her; they were only chasing her. She could not even feel any oxygen going through her brain as she turned to run more. Yet, it did not stop her. Eyes on the path, hands moving up and down from left to right while her legs were rhyming the speed. Right foot up, left hand lowered down, and the rest were mainly the opposite side. Thanks to the touch of the Wintarmanoths! she never felt so free. Her whole experience at the headquarters were mêlées, weaponries, a limited course, yet this moment was all new for her—an experience. 

She was not that cold nor scary, and she only taught herself to do it. 

"Do not let her get ahead!" Another yell from one of those sentries that were following her from nearby. 

Performing this would not hurt the sentries; they will all be just tired. They were tired of her, to begin with. It was enough or possibly not. Her eyes sparkled for a millisecond as she saw that there was a new batch of sentries fitting together in the amusing dash. She was a handful. And the kind of sentries that were chasing her was mind-numbing. Light blue armors were not challenging. She probably may not be the best from the other beings' outlook, and she also does not want to be the 'Best.' Still, she can differentiate easily and hard. She was born; Ciana Aolina just wanted to throw knives at the trackers. Who had a mind like hers? At least she was finding a way to delay them... those lower class of sentries. She turned to look back at the sentries from behind; she needed that new ability from the other beings, which they named as Time-stop–the control that she would never have. It was impossible… really not possible, and if one day she could have it, then the scenario right now would make a huge difference; it can also be put on the other way to designate what was interesting indeed to her rather than an ordinary view to the lookout. Cycles forbid her to enjoy most of what she has now. Disciplined Armaments. 

Ciana took a turn for a different path going North. She then welcomed a dimmed vision due to less exposure to the alternative road lights. It was mainly an isolated area since it was far from the central building and, of course, a location incapable of being employed by living beings. Since the air that surrounds her has some toxicities. She was not affected, for now. Her eyes were not made for dimmed areas; it was a disadvantage. Nevertheless, she already studied it…not somewhat the method she projected in the actual run. She would be stupid to take the task without imagining the risk. Ciana Aolina will not let herself run out of selections. She holds back her breath. A being like her can resist exhaling for about thirty-five minutes. She has that constricted air holding back through her lungs like a magnified material. Though it may look like she was about to die, it was as normal as being chased. She was more than a matchless asset. A tangible transaction worth more than the Yors. 

When she started to let her ends pace to another curved path going to the South, some reflection marks off on those on the go brain cells. 'I should check this portion. Just in case, I miss some details.' Actually, if she could not fulfill the task on hand, the elder will punish those who will back her up. However, it would be unjust since there was not much point in physically abusing the rest of the crew. Well, for her, it can be termed physically abusing, but it was a normal punishment; one might carry 150 pounds of violet slime shards, others could be sent out to be slapped by merciless Thorui—a creature with a body of a squid that has growing thorns on their outside skin. But the unknown charges for the others were the chilling entity.