it’s around noon when they come for me. just as well. i get the feeling they ordinarily would have sent the team at some ungodly hour of the morning, but they learned from last time. and the times before that. i don’t know if i’ll be able to make it out of this one. they brought searchlights, aiming them at the windows, the escape routes. cast blazing beams through each window, searing my eyes if I look too closely. limiting what I can see, what i can work with, doing the exact opposite for their snipers.
the ring on my finger pulses gently, in response to my rising anxiety.
i grit my teeth and ignore it, casting around for inspiration. i’m flat on my back by the second floor hallway window. i know the junk drawer downstairs has two pairs of sunglasses in it, courtesy of whoever abandoned this house before i found it. if i can get to them, i can cut back the light, letting me see outside a little.
one.
the thundering of the ram against my door sets the time limit on my pondering. probably… two, three more solid hits? thank fuck for the chair i had the foresight to wedge under the doorknob. keeping low to the ground, i make my way to the stairs and hurl myself down, land in a crouch, dash for the drawer and grab the sunglasses without looking, judge the state of the door. it’s close enough to breaking that I run up the stairs, sliding the tinted lenses over my eyes, over my regular glasses. not that the extra seconds are doing me a lot of good. peeking under the curtain, there’s practically a whole army on my doorstep. four big black vans, a fleet of cop cars, one ominous-looking truck and trailer. goons in body armor pressed against the wall of the house, trying to stay out of sight. all this, just for me. i have to say, it’s a little gratifying that i’ve managed to make myself this much of a pain in the Vault’s ass.
two.
i can feel when the sniper gets a bead on me. dunno how, honestly. i don’t think it’s an effect of either of the artifacts i’m carrying, more of an instinct. i drop onto my stomach as the crack of the rifle- three- mingles with the tinkle of the broken glass, roll to the side as another bullet punches through the wood of the floor where my head should be. a split second later i hear the wood of the door splinter beneath me. time’s up, and my ways out are shrinking all the time.
so far, it’s all still stuff i’ve seen before. maybe executed tighter, more competently, but still the same baseline plan of attack. find my shelter, pin me down inside, have contingencies for whatever bullshit i pull this time. i feel my confidence in the situation go up, just a little. that’s always been their biggest limitation, and it’s one i’m practically engineered to exploit. i feel the fire start up again inside me. two parts rage, one part irrational joy. hey, if they’re not going to let me do my thing, i’ll take what i can where i can get it. the ring responds with a thrill of its own.
my hand strays to the hilt strapped to my belt, and my mind kicks into high gear. boots in the front hall downstairs. clearing the rooms, maybe ten seconds before they get to me. they brought enough men to surround the building on all sides this time. likely a sniper at every face of the house, too. good sense enough to go in pairs, familiar enough with me to know not to take their eyes off each other.
last time i has tried hiding in the walls, they just fumigated the place. not an experience i want to repeat. hm.
hm. that’s an idea.
needs more than seven seconds, though, so I sprint to the bathroom, barricade the door, and tap the ring. time to change.
at the exact moment the bathroom door collapses, the outer wall of the house explodes, the corner of the building pummeled to dust by the sword. before the cloud dissipates, and before the rushing jackboots can get their hands on me, i take wing, streaking for the flash of lens and metal suddenly pointing my direction. comes down to timing-
TONG.
the impact jars my arm badly, but the sword takes it in stride. i don’t give the sniper a chance to get another shot in before i kick her in the stomach hard enough to send her toppling from the treestand, break the rifle against the trunk of the tree, wings tucked close to avoid the other snipers’ lines of fire as best i can. don’t look back as i kick off and into the open air. don’t bother with a witty remark when i can already feel the beads of a thousand and one weapons.
this form is my favorite, i think. feels incredible, even here in this moment. feels more like me than any of the other ones i’ve tried in the days i’ve had the ring. impractical indoors, maybe. at least it has been while i’ve been on the run. i’ve thought about ways to make the inside more adapted to this, but- well. hard to do that when you get one night in a place at best. if i just had a second to think, i could fix this. i could get them off my tail, could work on what i actually want to work on. i’m holding on for that.
the house itself blazes with light, when i check back over my shoulder. i can see the soldiers crawling though the place like ants, turning over furniture, checking for things i’d left behind. kind of a pity to see them trash the place, i really liked this one. the weariness in my bones is a subtle, consistent ache that’s been building for months, and this mad dash across the state has left be even more tired than i was.
they’ll have equipment to give chase, of course, but i’m not seriously worried about them catching me. beating me in a straight race is one of the worst ideas they could try, even with the ring offline for now. i’ve outrun their helicopters before, and barring them bringing a jet into the equation, i’m the fastest thing on the land and sky for miles around. and even if they brought a jet, i could probably-
i let myself plan for the situation. i’m bound to have a few hours in the air anyway, and this is probably the most restful part of the routine, the time i have to make plans, the time i have to figure out what to do when i need to sleep in four hours.
and so my mind is occupied, when i see the fine blue threads mist into sight ahead of me. it’s a second i don’t have at this speed.