The Coordinate

Chapter 9: Sudden Attack

            Birds. That’s what humans called them.

            Feathered creatures not bound to the ground that came in all kinds of sizes. From large predatory ones, to small elusive ones. His father used to tell him stories about them. Everytime, after every spacer mission with mom, they’d tell him all the wonders of Terra—the world they left long ago. Being a bird sounded like the best thing in the world. Why wouldn’t it be? Gravity would not bind you. Your wings rarely fail you. You were the freest life form in the entire universe.

            It was unlike anything he had ever seen or heard of.

            Yet the enemy killed them all in this beautiful planet. Where his father described light blue skies with feathered creatures flying about like spacer ships, he only saw an ugly green smog. C.I.F. exhaustions. A version significantly lesser than that of their planets, but will soon become like it.

            Core materia.

            If there was any word best to describe this thing, it was what humans called ‘the devil’. It promises riches, but at the cost of lives, and environment.

               But why did humanity let this smoke fill their skies and kill most of such beautiful creatures? He thought about that in contempt as if he didn’t know the answer already. But of course, it was obvious. Way too obvious. Novasapiens were greedy, ungrateful, and cleverly parasitic. It only made sense that humans, as the novasapien’s descendants, would be similar.

            Yes, it made complete sense.

            Golden light peered inside from the bars, a light that he knew would have looked beautiful without those exhaustions. It danced on his skin. It was warm, like the gentle, reassuring touch of every partner he had ever rode with.

            So this is this planet’s sol?

             Heavy footsteps amounting to dozens resonated through the stone and cement a few distances around him. He exhaled, forcing his heart to steady down.

            Creaking metals echoed through the rotted ruins, followed by a loud bang. He sat by a wall, steeling himself for anything that may come his way. He fixed his gaze on the floor, poked and drew on the dust-littered floor, pretending to be amused.

            The footsteps stopped, and in his periphery, blurred silhouettes of men.

            “Corpi, tha’rtekai turom.”

            Stand up and come, Corpi.

            That bastard’s voice was barely maintained the accent of their tongue.

            Swallow stood up and looked at them with a cynical look.

            A fattened, towering devil  figure dressed in opulent golden robes. and four guards armed to the teeth. A large,

            He was flattered. Did they really think he was that dangerous?

He smirked at them.

            The towering A’vin in the middle. He wore an ornate, sleek coat with white and golden outlines. Smooth metallic augmentations made up parts of its head, including its mouth and left eye, and the little skin that remained was dry, darkened, and wrinkly. The man looked at him with intense interest. He smiled at him as if looking at a pile of gold, but also with sinister intent.

            Intent.

            If there was anything Swallow could see better than everyone, it was that.

            One guard opened the cell and clamped Swallow’s arms with a detaining arch. It coiled around his body like a viper.

            The guards dragged him along the man, forcing him outside, where a large aircraft waited for them.

            He looked around the environment’s area, finding there were only so few trees. Many insects—too many--hummed and clicked on small, green grasses. The sky and sunlight were still tainted by an ugly green hue. He painted a picture of what this pristine world could have looked like before the A’vins came here, and to see it slowly turn into the desolate waste of a planet that the A’vins so cowardly abandoned sparked an ire.

            “Are you proud of this, Zionous? Do you feel happy doing the same thing three times?” Swallow spat as they walked.

            An elbow greeted his stomach, and the butt of a rifle to his face. The guards barked out demands to shut the hell up. The Zionous raised his hand, and the guards recomposed themselves and quieted down. “What I do is none of your business..”

            Gunfire echoed from a distance and direction untraceable. A guard fell down with a moan. The remaining guards quickly pushed Swallow and the Zionous towards the bay of the aircraft while firing where the gunfire came from.

            Another singular gunfire echoed, and another guard fell with a hole drilled into its head.

            Two more fires, and the last guards dropped dead.

            Swallow hid beneath the corpse of the guards, smiling. Whatever was shooting at them, even if Swallow was going to die, at the very least the Zionous will die too.

            Another gunfire echoed. A blurry line pierced through the Zionous. His body glitched like hologram.

            Swallow’s eyes widened, his heart wrecked with disappointment.

“I see the police and the Preparatories have been careless.” He said, and with that, he disappeared. A boom rippled through the Earth. The aircraft’s wings were now on fire. Swallow propelled the guard’s bodies with his legs, dragging their corpses on beside and on top of him.

The aircraft fell apart in a series of explosions. Fearful cries of humans and novasapiens alike echoed in the air, shouting for the Zionous.

Many ignorant, innocent civilians and workers that were lied to by the person they looked up to the most dying. Classic.

            Shouting joined the loud thuds and crackling flames. Swallow immediately pulled out a knife from one of the corpse’s belts and dug it into his sides, into a part of his body where the wound would not kill him.

            The cold steel pierced his flesh. He bit tongue, keeping himself from screaming. He only had to endure this for a little while longer until these attackers, whoever they were, was to be gone. He closed his eyes and lowered his heartbeat.

            “Did we get the Zionous?” one male, human voice said.

            “No. I don’t see that false god’s corpse.” One man replied.

            “How many devils did you take out?”

            “Four, just like our scouts reported.”

            “So, why are there five of them?”

             “I don’t know. It seems like this one was what caused the attack on Ytrial City earlier, but he’s been stabbed.”

            The voices suddenly got louder. Warm, forceful air nibbled at his skin, raising her hairs.

            Don’t get scared! If your heartbeat rises, they’ll know…”

            “This one doesn’t seem dead just yet. Being stabbed right here doesn’t exactly kill someone.”

            Beads of sweat formed on Swallow’s scalp.

            Something soft and hard touched the veins of his neck.

            Flat line… For just a couple seconds, please flat line!

            “Forget it. Look at his face and hips. Besides, God does not allow the contact with the deceivers and children of the devil. Remove your finger from there at once!”

            “R-right. Forgive me.”

            Relief welled into his heart.

            “All of you, salvage what materials we can from the airship quickly before more arrives. Take the devil’s weapons, then leave their bodies to the worms.” A commanding voice rippled through the air.

            Swallow waited there completely still for a couple minutes. It was hot. Nauseatingly hot. His father told him that Terra being so near to the star system’s sol made the planet even hotter than theirs, especially during the day, but he didn’t figure it would be broiling hot. He felt his body dry and cook as footsteps, banging, and mindless word exchanges permeated the air.

            It was t*****e. Sitting still completely was t*****e.

            But this was a good thing. Perhaps his goal can still be achievable. He just has to keep still, and be patient. Then run, act, and fight hell when the chance arrives.

            His father didn’t raise a failure…

            I’m not a failure….

            Eventually, the footsteps and shouting faded. The only sound left was the whistling wind. Swallow opened his eyes finally and took out the looked around. The air ship was relatively still intact. The engines, wings and cockpits were destroyed and burnt, but nothing that could concern him.

            Everything hurt. His muscles throbbed, his joints cried out, and his bones complained. Yet, he knew he must flee quickly. More A’vins would come here and surround him. And if that happens… then he’ll be really a failure.

            He forced himself up and nabbed the outfit of the one guard shot in the head. Ice was as if burning through his bones. Everytime he moved, it felt like it was about to be cut off. But it didn’t matter.

            First, he needed water.

            Then, he’ll get inside that underground city.

            Then, he’ll find the Coordinate, whatever it was, then his ship.

            Then… he must find that girl.

            Winter Swan, that was her name.

            He couldn’t explain it. It was perhaps last time he’ll partner with someone as a spacer, but his motivation, his goals, and drive was somehow fueled even further. They were dreams and aspirations that didn’t belong to him, but one that he felt like he needed to accomplish now.

            His body was just like a stacked wall of bricks, a wall that was to be felled in a single blow. He kept his hand to his self-inflicted stab wound, keeping pressure, keeping too much blood from spilling out. He flicked his free hand, and a holographic map popped up above his palm. This region was a large place, and first priorities would be self-care. He needed to find somewhere safe, and treat his wounds.

            As blaring noises and helicopter chuffs flooded the air.

            He took a deep breath, limping  turned to running, excruciating pain turned to hell. He needed to get away unseen, and  thankfully, it wasn’t his first time pushing his body beyond his limits.