NNN
Epicurus breaks down in cold sweats, something darker even stronger just appeared.
It's as he feared. A fight between Mr. N and Osprey vs himself.
Epicurus looks at Mr. N and sees Solomon behind him then looking up at the medics stuck on the wall. Smiling, he wipes his face. "It's nice to see you again."
Mr. N tilts his head and puts his hands in his pockets. Staring him down without saying a single word.
"What do you think is the most efficient way of Devil worship?"
His pupils were reflecting the light of words Infront of him.
Epicurus sees himself being sacrificed. A giant stone tablet crushing his chest in the middle of a grassy plane.
Epicurus turns around and sees his dead brother.
He closed his eyes as his heart jumps out of his chest.
His emotions flaring he cracks a big giant nervous smile. He's never felt this disrespected in his entire life.
But this is what Mr. N wants. Its highly likely Solomon could inject Osprey, revive him.
And that would make it in a 3 versus 1. A fight not worth fighting.
Epicurus bites his lip as he inhales a special gas in the handle of his sword.
The burn hit instantly, scouring through his veins. The visions snapped apart, his mind clearing in a violent rush, leaving him cold, razor-sharp, and hyperfocused.
Mr. N looked dissapointed grabbing for his weapon a sweat trickled down his face. "He came prepared?"
Epicurus turned his back walking away. Swearing to himself as his eyes burn crimson.
He walks away trying to keep his composure he raises his hand as if saying goodbye.
Mr. N smiles as a drip of sweat runs down his face. "Solomon, we just escaped the jaws of an absolute beast."
Solomon calms his breathing, looking at the corpses of Roy and Petera. Alongside the pathetic state Vera and Kage were left in. Still unable to move they were nervously shaking on the floor as if there nervous system had been wrecked. Solomon commented "That's the elite Gaurd Rank 6 for the President?" I am a goldfish in comparis--."
Mr. N cuts him off "Dont compare yourself. Its only natural the Presidents Elite Gaurd are more powerful than ours. More resources, more time, more experience. But leave that to me."
Mr. N rolls his eyes looking at Osprey's body. He removed an earring forceably out of his own ear. He think forceably clips it onto Osprey's earlobe. "For now lets save what we can."
As Mr. N glanced over and Vera and Kage "Get up and help us."
They nodded.
Solomon quickly and effectively cuts Osprey out of the concrete as he wheels him onto the stretcher himself.
Ten broken ribs, three shattered clean through.
Spine — fracture–dislocation through T6–T7 with a complete cord transection. No motor, no sensory below the mid-chest. He's functionally paralyzed from the waist up, from the chest down.
The spike went clean through the abdomen, traversed the diaphragm, grazed the pericardium and stopped in the pelvic brim — missed the heart by millimetres. The liver is lacerated, spleen fragmented, massive intraperitoneal hemorrhage.
Left humerus crushed, comminuted fracture. Left, right, intravenous, membranous ventricle—he keeps going, voice steady, unflinching. He speaks as if reading from a manual—For minutes he goes on, enumerating what's left of a body that shouldn't still be breathing. Each word colder than the last.
As Solomon goes on for another 2 minutes explaining all of Ospreys injuries,
Mr. N sighs "Is this the fucking morgue?"
Solomon sighs. "Third-degree burns over nearly half his back where the blast hit, deep tissue damage underneath. Multiple soft-tissue, degloving injuries where concrete took the skin off. Estimated blood loss — catastrophic. Hypovolemic and in traumatic shock.
Solomon shrugged "By any textbook, he should be a corpse. But it's an Osprey so he's still alive."
Mr. N mumbled. "This is God stick."
"Indeed" Solomon whispered.
Mr. N couldn't believe it. In some twisted, sick way, it felt like Mori had taken revenge on him. After all the years he had cared for him in that wheelchair, Mori had decided to put my right-hand man in one for it.
Solomon looked at the battlefield, then looked up at the black birds circling. This made sense now. No wonder the buildings were all destroyed, everything in this area is displaced. Only a battle between 2 Upper Elite Gaurds could cause this.
Mr. N whispered speaking to himself "It's not your fault, everything is just falling apart, it's whatever."
Solomon pushed the stretcher. Just walking and thinking of potentially his next course of action, his lieutenants were obedient they did not speak, his two nurses were awestruck of being in the presence of Mr. N.
Maeve helped her friend and helped Vera clean up from what happened earlier.
She was silent stoic and effective.
It was out of character, Maeve, the short brunette was rather talkative but he didn't question it. His other lieutenant, his fighter Karla, was naturally silent; her black hair was held together in a bun, She walked with discipline. Not getting in anyone's way simply pushing the stretcher with Kage while Maeve pushed hers with Vera.
Their eyes were dark, it was rather odd but he tried not to think about it. The more he tried not to think about it however the worse it got.
"Have you ever been to Jerusalem? Solomon?"
Mr. N asked a question. Solomon however didn't hear it, "Doesn't Maeve have green eyes? Why are her pupils black?"
Then Solomon started to sweat. His heart sinking deep into his gut. The wheels of the stretcher squealed on the pavement, every sound too loud, too sharp.
To his left, Mr. N walked beside him, calm as ever. But then—
down the street, maybe fifty meters ahead—
Solomon froze.
There he was.
Mr. N.
Same stride.
Same coat.
Same face.
Same Gait?