« Seriously, what the hell are you doing here?! I told you to leave with your teammate and Tāo. »
Blocking the many projectiles the man was firing, before he tried to slip around the sides of the wall. She had to open her senses to their absolute limit, drawing the blood from her flask and adding it to the wall in order to create a dome that fully protected both her and Alpha.
« The nerve! I save your life not once but twice, and you dare ramble on like some dirty old bastard lecturing me. Maybe I should just let you die, you and your pride! »
Alpha felt his life gradually slipping away, every second bringing him closer to death—he knew it. Yet he wanted to die like a wolf, with honor and pride, but he couldn't resent his savior either.
« Let's kill that fucking bastard, and then get the hell out! »
« Works for me. »
No matter what they said, the man facing them was formidable. Advancing, protected by his psychic shield, Yumiel's daggers merely bounced off it, as did Alpha's chains.
Even so, the repeated attacks against his shield seemed to be exhausting him. As for him, he couldn't break through Yumiel's dome. The fight now came down to who would fall first.
Seeing his attacks were useless, he changed strategy. Reinforcing his shield, he headed toward the man on the ground whom Alpha had hurled far away.
By the time Yumiel understood, it was already a little too late. Sending her daggers to finish off the man on the ground, he extended his hand, slowing the daggers and giving himself time to come to his ally's aid.
Waking him before saying a few words and helping him walk toward Yumiel's dome.
« This is bad… if that guy gets here, he'll break my dome and it's over for us. »
« Then let's make sure we exhaust them and kill them first. »
Alpha intensified his attacks; Yumiel did what she could, unable to strengthen them any further. Despite their efforts, he kept advancing, soon arriving right in front of her dome.
In the sky, Alan's helicopter passed overhead. Seeing the scene and understanding the situation, he would have loved to help, but he could do nothing. Watching helplessly.
Staying close to the scene nonetheless, he eventually started taking fire from soldiers on the ground, realizing he wasn't considered an ally. He maneuvered to make himself harder to hit while circling around Yumiel.
Reaching the dome, the man gathered his Ch'i and struck it, shattering it in a single blow. Fortunately, she rebuilt it instantly. Meanwhile, Alpha's chains kept slamming into the psychic shield, while Yumiel focused solely on defense.
Alan saw the whole scene, biting his fingers in frustration at being unable to do anything, before shots passed dangerously close to him. Then he started coughing, spitting blood across the cockpit.
Pulling out a cigarette and his lighter, then lighting it,
« Fssshhh… Ffff… So this is what I've really become… a drunk who needs cigarettes and alcohol just to live. »
Glancing down at the situation, he could see it wasn't improving—on the contrary. Blood was running from Yumiel's eyes, Alpha was in the process of dying, and no one could help them… An idea came to Alan, a very ill-advised one.
« Fuck… I never thought I'd even consider doing this… if you go down, we all go down, little vampire. Seriously, I'll be your guardian angel just this once. »
Gunfire continued to rake Alan's helicopter as he began descending toward the two people in front of Yumiel's dome, charging in at full speed.
Alpha's attacks slowed, more and more.
« Alpha, you still there? Hey, don't you let go now, damn it! »
The blood flowing from her eyes was starting to bother her; she felt like her brain was about to explode. Rebuilding her dome every time, almost instantly, was extremely taxing.
Occasionally attacking with her daggers when she could, though not often.
Suddenly, a helicopter slammed into the two in front of her, sending them crashing into a nearby building wall, the chopper smashing into it as well.
The two had just been struck by a helicopter and ended up embedded in a wall. The psychic shield couldn't withstand all the impacts—the man who wielded Ch'i died instantly, the other had one hand completely crushed.
The worst was the pilot—Alan. Pieces of metal were embedded in his body, hundreds of small and large shards of glass lodged everywhere, and the many mechanical noises echoing through the cockpit after the crash were audible.
A smell of kerosene began to spread; the helicopter blades detached at the moment of impact, flying off toward the battlefield.
Alan weakly opened his eyes, seeing that his abdomen was barely recognizable anymore. He coughed, which caused him excruciating pain. In front of him, the man sprawled against the wall and cockpit also opened his eyes, clearly not dead yet.
Slowly raising his only remaining arm, making the helicopter tremble to force it to move.
Alan spoke in a distorted, death-tinged voice.
« Die, you fucking bastard. »
Slowly pulling out his trusty pistol and emptying the magazine into him. He deflected the bullets, though a few still hit. Yumiel arrived at the same moment, shouting as she looked into the cockpit.
« ALAN, ARE YOU OKAY?! »
Yumiel looked at Alan… His legs had fused with the cockpit, reduced to dust. His body was riddled with pipes, shards of glass, and countless other electronic or metallic fragments.
His face hadn't been spared either—many pieces of glass pierced his skin, and he was missing an ear. Even trying to heal him, she didn't think she could save him.
Looking at her, he struggled to form a facial expression, but his eyes said enough. At that moment, Yumiel understood… she understood Alan's earlier words. In truth, he'd been thinking about it from the beginning, without really thinking about it. Except this time… he did it.
She stepped away and returned to Alpha, who was breathing his last.
In the cockpit, Alan could feel the kerosene spreading. Grabbing his lighter—engraved on the back with the initials A&Y, a gift his wife had given him before he left for the last of his wars—thus becoming the burden he would carry with him forever.
Lighting the lighter, then letting it fall to the ground, dropping from the helicopter before igniting the kerosene—exploding.