Snow

Chapter 10: Snow

When Kestrel felt the skull of the bald man finally shattered beyond recognition, the intense anger that had been building up inside him dissipated. 

With a forceful kick, Kestrel drove his foot into the body, pulling the blade from the mangled flesh. The bald man's lifeless form collapsed with a thud. 

A strange sound echoed from within the man's brain, the odd rhythm of breath—moaning, gasping, like some sort of grotesque audio loop. 

"Are you really watching porn while fighting?" Kestrel muttered in disbelief, his frustration mounting. He advanced toward the lifeless form, unsheathing his knife and severing the head in a swift motion.

Without even taking a moment to catch his breath, Kestrel tightened his grip on the knife and, with ruthless precision, made his way toward the fallen bald man's subordinates. One after another, he dispatched them, his actions mechanical and cold. Though exhaustion weighed heavily on him, he dared not pause. If they woke, it would be his death. 

Kestrel found that killing had become second nature to him, as if he'd executed this same routine a thousand times over. 

By the time the last enemy fell with his head severed, Kestrel slumped onto the waterlogged ground, panting heavily. His wounds flared with pain once again. "These painkillers... their effects are pitiful."

"They're not ineffective, it's just that your body has reached its limit. You're too severely injured," TPAL said with a strained voice, shakily approaching and helping Kestrel to his feet. "Impressive, Kestrel."

"Are you okay? You're smoking," Kestrel remarked, glancing at TPAL, whose body was visibly malfunctioning.

"I'm fine. Just a short circuit," TPAL replied nonchalantly. 

"What the hell is going on? I just wanted to survive, why is this so hard?" Kestrel muttered bitterly, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, mixing with the puddle beneath him.

"I don't know. If you're asking me, who am I supposed to ask? Let's get out of here first," TPAL said, helping Kestrel toward the ruins' edge.

"Wait for me!" PAUL, still with smoke rising from his head, shakily followed behind.

"You've got some serious luck," Kestrel said with a sideways glance at PAUL, who was only slowing them down. If it weren't for the startup funds, Kestrel would have preferred to leave him behind.

"Don't blame me for slowing us down. Look at me, I'm in no shape to help. Besides, my offensive limbs are installed on you, right? When you kill, it's like I'm killing," PAUL said with a smirk.

"Hold on, let me start a live stream. Family, I'm back—"

"Shut off the live stream!" Kestrel and TPAL both snapped at the same time. Finally, PAUL complied.

If he dared to keep broadcasting, Kestrel would have shoved the barrel of his gun down his throat and fired.

Kestrel tilted his head back, allowing the rain to wash over his face. At least it kept him somewhat alert. He felt an overwhelming fatigue creeping in, but the acidic rain pelted his exposed wound where his ear once was, causing sharp pain.

As the rain washed over him, Kestrel noticed something emerging from the dark clouds above. Gradually, the rain slowed, the clouds shifting to reveal an enormous, dark silhouette blocking the storm. 

At first, it appeared to be a sharp black corner, but it soon extended, the dark metal stretching outward, growing larger and larger until it loomed over him like a mountain, nearly filling his entire field of vision.

A shudder of fear gripped Kestrel. "What in the hell is that?"

Suddenly, the sky was flooded with blinding light. As Kestrel squinted to adjust, he discerned that it was a colossal, glaring light tower, the size of a building. 

The towering steel structure, with ten massive lights blazing like the eyes of a god, seemed to peer down at the tiny world below.

It dawned on Kestrel then—the object above was no natural phenomenon, but a man-made creation: a giant spacecraft!

Then, an earsplitting mechanical voice thundered from the heavens. "Warning, warning. This is corporate territory. High Peak Technology Corporation holds ownership over all space debris. All individuals present are to cease theft immediately and vacate the area within one minute. Failure to comply will result in the company employing all legal measures to protect its property. 59, 58, 57..."

The voice switched between several languages, cold and mechanical, but it carried with it a tone of finality that sent a shiver down Kestrel's spine—especially when he saw the reactions of others around him.

The sounds of gunfire from other areas ceased. Faced with the massive object above, even the most hardened combatants lost interest in further fighting. They collected their spoils and began retreating.

Kestrel had no idea what "legal measures" entailed, but he knew one thing for sure—none of it would be good. The three of them ran with all their remaining strength.

"35, 34, 33..." The countdown sounded like a death knell, and the once white light of the towering ship turned a deep, blood-red hue, flashing violently, adding to the oppressive atmosphere.

"Look over there!" TPAL pointed toward the misty silhouette of a distant mountain. 

As Kestrel neared, he saw clearly now—what appeared to be a mound, made entirely of plastic bags, creating a grotesque heap of trash. 

He ran with all his might, but the battle with the bald man had drained him of every last ounce of energy. His steps grew heavier with each passing moment.

Suddenly, the flickering of the lights stopped. ".3, 2, 1... Under the Castle Law Article 315, you are trespassing on private property. The company will begin unlimited liability self-defense measures."

Kestrel glanced up, dizzy and disoriented. Above, the sky was awash with the red and green glow of countless drones, each one tracking their every move. It felt as though the sky itself had transformed into a deadly, suffocating snowstorm of death.

"Run!" PAUL shouted, staggering over and supporting Kestrel, dragging him toward the trash mound.

As the red and green snowflakes began to fall from the sky, they erupted into flames of death, incinerating everything in their path. Bullets rained down, blending indistinguishably with the falling rain.

Kestrel, his teeth clenched, raised his metal arm, firing shell after shell into the rain. Explosions lit up the sky as drones were obliterated, yet for each one destroyed, more seemed to appear.

"Is this how it ends?" Kestrel thought desperately. He scanned the skies, but no solutions emerged. The drones were insignificant compared to the massive steel beast looming above. The imbalance of power was overwhelming. There was no fighting it—this was a death sentence.

Above them, the drones circled like vultures, and the air seemed to freeze. 

"Survival probability: 0%. Survival probability: 0%," TPAL muttered, calculating a way out.

Looking up at the fleet of drones and the massive spacecraft dominating the sky, Kestrel felt his hope drain away. It was an enemy force that humanity stood no chance against.

Just as they seemed about to be riddled with bullets, PAUL, who had been trailing behind Kestrel, stepped forward. "Heroes always show up last. Let me handle this."

"What?" Kestrel was stunned. Was PAUL some kind of expert? Had he been pretending all along?

In the face of the flying death machines, PAUL remained unshaken. With a dramatic flourish, he pulled a gold card from his pocket, holding it aloft with a proud expression. "I! Have! Money!!"

As soon as he spoke, the drones froze, their gun barrels stopping. Their cameras shifted to focus on PAUL.

"I'll buy time!" PAUL declared, as one drone descended rapidly to scan the card.

As the transaction went through, the drones scattered as if nothing had happened. Even the colossal spacecraft above dimmed its deadly red lights, shifting back to a neutral white. The suffocating atmosphere vanished.