Abarith
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Chapter 53: Hunted by Conscience
🕑 Added 2024-12-06 21:56:47 +0000 UTCHe continued to navigate the maze of narrow streets and darkened alleys. Each corner he turned, each shadow he passed, seemed to carry with it a new weight. He heard the distant sounds—footsteps echoing through the empty streets, the clank of machinery somewhere out of sight, and the constant hum of an unseen power source. The atmosphere made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, making him feel as if something might jump out at him at any second.
As he moved deeper into the city, Jeremy started encountering scattered groups of Xelarians. Each fight drained more of his energy. He could feel his body tiring, the sharpness of his reflexes dulling slightly with each fight. But he couldn't let that slow him down. The simulated environment seemed to grow more hostile with every step, almost as if the city itself sensed his presence.
After one particularly tough fight, Jeremy found a small alcove tucked between two buildings. He took a moment to catch his breath, leaning heavily against the wall. He closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing, allowing his heart rate to slow. For a brief moment, the sounds of the city faded into the background, and all that mattered was the rhythm of his breath. In and out. In and out.
Jeremy's thoughts drifted to his friends. Were they okay? He hoped so. But he knew that if he didn't take this moment to rest, he wouldn't be of any use to them. He had to be smart and pace himself. A lesson learned from his time in the Tier 2 dungeon—know when to push, but also know when to pull back.
With his energy slightly restored, Jeremy moved deeper into the city. Then came an encounter that stood out. Jeremy spotted a Xelarian ahead, different from the rest—taller, broader, and carrying two swords instead of one. This one moved with a dangerous, fluid precision, and Jeremy immediately knew it was a cut above the others. His heart began to pound, and for a brief moment, he considered retreating. But he remembered Hendrikson's voice, sharp and commanding: no hesitation. If you hesitate, you lose.
Taking a deep breath, Jeremy tightened his grip on his spear and charged forward. The Xelarian moved to meet him, and they clashed with a force that nearly knocked the wind out of him. The Xelarian was fast—faster than Jeremy had anticipated. Its swords sliced through the air, the twin blades creating arcs that Jeremy had to duck and weave to avoid. He thrust his spear, aiming for the gaps in its defense, but it was like trying to hit smoke. The Xelarian twisted and dodged, its movements almost graceful despite the ferocity of the fight.
But, the Xelarian overextended just slightly, and Jeremy seized the moment. He lunged forward, driving his spear into the Xelarian's side. It let out a guttural sound, its swords dropping as it fell to the ground. Jeremy stood there, panting, his muscles aching from the effort.
Jeremy pushed onward. And that's when he started to see them—the Xelarian civilians. The first time he saw them, he almost didn't believe his eyes. It was a family, huddled together in the shadows of a half-destroyed building. There was an older Xelarian, perhaps the grandfather, with a younger woman and two children. They looked terrified, their eyes wide and pleading as they stared at him.
For a moment, Jeremy froze. His heart pounded in his chest, and his grip on his spear tightened. He knew what he was supposed to do—what was expected of him. No one must be left behind. That was what Hendrikson had drilled into him and the others. But standing there, looking at them, it felt different. These weren't soldiers. They had no weapons, no armor—only wide, terrified eyes. He tried to summon the resolve drilled into him, but his feet felt like stone. The older Xelarian stepped back, shielding the children as best as he could, and Jeremy's heart twisted painfully. They were just bystanders, caught in a nightmare they had no say in.
Jeremy stepped forward. His spear felt heavy, like it was betraying him. He ended their lives as quickly as he could without looking at their faces. They fell silently, and he tried to convince they weren’t real—that they were just clones of Hendrikson during this training. But no matter how much he told himself, each thrust, each broken body left a mark. Could I do this during the actual war?
He kept moving, kept fighting, but with each step, it felt like the city was swallowing him whole. The air grew thicker, as if the simulation was trying to break him. His body ached mixed with something far deeper—something that tore at him from the inside. He knew he had to keep going, that there was no turning back, but with each Xelarian civilian he found, he felt a little more of himself slipping away. He wondered how much longer he could keep this up—how much longer he could keep pushing forward before there was nothing left of him but the mission.
He wished for the Vexari Guard to reappear. They were simpler—an enemy he could fight without these complicated emotions. When a small group of them emerged from the shadows, Jeremy felt a surge of relief. He lunged at them with a fierceness that came from somewhere desperate.
They lunged at him, and Jeremy moved instinctively, his body reacting faster than his mind. The clash of metal, the adrenaline pumping through his veins—it was almost a relief compared to the silence of the dead civilians. He fought with everything he had, his movements precise and fierce, the spear an extension of his will. He had to keep going, had to keep pushing, because if he stopped now, he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to start again.
As the last Xelarian fell, Jeremy stood panting, staring at the bodies around him. His chest rose and fell with each labored breath, and he wiped the sweat from his brow. He wasn't done yet. He could still keep moving. The training wasn't over.
Suddenly, Jeremy's communicator buzzed, breaking through his thoughts. He fumbled for it, the small screen flashing with Marcus' signal. "Regroup at the plaza," the message read, along with coordinates to the designated meeting point. Jeremy took a deep breath, steeling himself.
As Jeremy wound through the maze of streets towards the plaza, smaller automated drones patrolled the area, testing his awareness. Buzzing like oversized insects, their metal surfaces glinted in the dim light. Though Jeremy dispatched them swiftly, each encounter wasted his time. Exhaustion crept into his bones, but the thought of reuniting with his friends pushed him onward.
Finally, he reached the plaza, a wide open space that was surprisingly surrounded by trees, a rare sight in the city. As he approached, he saw three familiar figures emerging from a side street—Mia, Perci, and Timothy had arrived just in time.
"There you are," Mia said, her bow slung across her back, a slight smirk on her face. "Couldn't let you guys have all the fun without us."
"Glad you made it," Jeremy said, relieved to see them.
Andrew sat beside Marcus on a bench underneath a tree. His eyes were tired, and his shoulders sagged slightly, but he managed a smile when he saw Jeremy.
They exchanged quick updates. Marcus suggested splitting up again to cover more ground, but Jeremy hesitated. "I think we should stick together for the next phase," Jeremy said firmly. "We’re not clearing the Xelarians fast enough on our own."
Marcus frowned, clearly wanting to push forward at full speed, but he nodded reluctantly. "Fine. But we move fast. It would be easier for them to spot us when we’re in a group."
Jeremy nodded, and together, they set off. They encountered larger groups of Xelarians, organized into patrols that moved with purpose and coordination. But with the group together, they managed to clear these patrols with ease. They moved in silence, communicating by texting with their devices, every step deliberate as they made their way deeper into enemy territory.
Throughout their movement, they were followed by automated drones, their constant presence unnerving. Jeremy and the others destroyed each one they came across, but it felt like they were fighting a losing battle. The drones were relentless, always finding them no matter how careful they were. Each encounter with a drone seemed to lead to another patrol of Xelarians catching up to them, forcing them to fight. It was like the drones were marking their position, guiding their enemies straight to them.
It wasn't long before they came across more civilians—Xelarians who cowered or fled at the sight of them. Each time, Jeremy felt the same twisting pain in his chest. He knew what the orders were. They had to be thorough. But it didn't make it any easier. Each encounter with the unarmed, terrified civilians was another memory that would haunt him long after the simulation ended.
They moved steadily onward until they reached a narrow steel bridge that connected two parts of the city. Marcus paused, his eyes scanning the area. "This could work," he whispered. "We set up an ambush here, use the bridge as a chokepoint."
Jeremy glanced around, assessing the terrain. It was ideal—narrow enough that only a few enemies could cross at a time, and a way out behind them should things turn bad. He nodded. "Let's do it."
They positioned themselves carefully, Jeremy taking point with his spear while Marcus and Andrew found cover behind the pillars of the bridge. They didn't have to wait long. A sizable group of Xelarians approached, their footsteps echoing off the metal. Jeremy took a deep breath, steadying himself. He could do this. They could do this.
Marcus gave the signal, and they sprang the trap. Jeremy surged forward, his spear a blur as he struck at the first Xelarian to cross the bridge. The fight was chaotic, the narrow space amplifying every clash of metal. Marcus was a whirlwind beside him, his sword cutting through the enemies with precision.
But there were so many of them. The Xelarians seemed endless, and despite their initial success, Jeremy could feel the tide beginning to turn against them. The relentless press of bodies, the sheer number of enemies—it was overwhelming. This was what Hendrikson meant when he said to treat the simulation as real. The enemies felt real, their attacks relentless, and there was no clear end in sight.
As they fought, Jeremy suddenly noticed more drones hovering in the distance, their mechanical eyes locked onto them. "Drones! They're tracking us!" he shouted, catching Mia's eye. Without a moment's hesitation, Mia pivoted, releasing an arrow that struck one of the drones, sending it crashing down in a burst of sparks. Perci moved quickly, using her agility to leap over the rubble and slice another drone from the sky, while Timothy swung his hammer, smashing a third drone to pieces. Despite their efforts, it was too late. The damage had already been done.
The Xelarians kept coming, and they found themselves being pushed back. Mia fired arrows relentlessly, her movements fluid and precise, while Perci darted between enemies, her daggers striking with deadly accuracy. But soon, Xelarians started to appear in their rear, slowly cutting off their escape route.
"We have to fall back!" Jeremy yelled, his voice barely audible over the noise of battle. Marcus and Andrew nodded, and they began to retreat, with Mia, Perci, and Timothy covering their withdrawal. Mia's arrows found their mark, keeping the advancing Xelarians at bay. They needed to regroup, to find a place where they weren’t seen by the drones, or they'd never be able to move without being found.
