Day 178. 11:50 hours.
Outside the compound.
The snow field.
They stood back to back.
Ji-yoo. Soulcleaver in her hands. The eight-foot blade of compressed gravitational energy humming. Her dark eyes fierce. Scanning the horde.
The woman in white. Katanas drawn. Both. Glocks in shoulder rigs. Her regeneration humming. Her eyes behind the goggles on the horde.
Thirty raiders. Circling. Various powers. Various hunger. Men who had seen twenty-two of their own drop in ten seconds and had, for one moment, been afraid. And then had gotten over it. Because they were sixty-seven. And the three who had killed twenty-two had split.
The captain had gone inside. The twin and the woman in white were outside. Alone. Two against thirty.
Jae-min was inside the compound. Fighting. But his spatial awareness was always on. Always mapping. And when the first raider died. When the first Enhanced signature went dark. He felt it.
The essence.
Faint. Thin. A wisp of gold light rising from the body. The particular gold light of an Enhanced's life force. Leaving. Dissipating. Into the air. Into the nothing.
The void opened. Small. A slit. Barely visible. And the wisp was pulled. In. Absorbed. Gone. Into Jae-min. Into his soul. The first essence of the day.
He did not stop to feel it. Was fighting. Was inside. But the void was always there. Always open. A slit in the air. Pulling. Every time an Enhanced died. Every time a signature went dark. The essence. Pulled. In.
— • • • —
Ji-yoo felt the woman in white's back against hers. Two women who had never stood this close. Two bodies touching. Back to back. Two fighters who were going to fight together for the first time.
They did not plan. Did not discuss. Did not signal. Two fighters whose bodies knew, without words, without anything, what the other was going to do. Instinct.
The horde closed. Thirty. From all directions.
They moved.
— • • • —
Ji-yoo moved first. Not toward the horde. Up.
Her gravity manipulation launched her skyward. Ten meters. Twenty. Not the way Gabriel flew. Not Mach 1.5. But up. Fast. A woman who was the sky.
Soulcleaver hummed in her hands. Her grip shifted on the shaft. Fingers finding the release. The blade rotated. The shaft telescoped. The scythe configuration collapsed.
The blade locking forward. The stock extending against her shoulder. The trigger mechanism clicking into place under her index finger.
Rifle mode.
She pulled the trigger.
The first round hit the ground between three raiders. Not a bullet. A gravity pulse. A round that detonated on impact and created a gravitational well. Three-meter radius. Compressed gravity that pulled everything within it. Down.
Three raiders pulled off their feet. Into the snow. Pinned. Three men suddenly on the ground because the gravity around them had become heavy.
The woman in white moved.
Not up. Down. Low. Crouching. Her body coiled. Katanas low. Weight on her front foot. Ready.
She was among them before they knew she was there. A woman who moved like she was not bound by the same rules of physics as everyone else. Because she was not.
She cartwheeled.
Not for show. For survival. A cartwheel that took her under a swinging fist. A strength-type raider swinging at where her head had been. And her head was not there. Because her head was below his fist. Because her body was inverted. Because she was cartwheeling.
And the katanas were in her hands. And the katanas were moving.
The right-hand katana found the raider's ankle on the way around. The blade slicing through the Achilles tendon. The tendon severing. The two ends retracting. The calf muscle snapping upward. The raider's foot going dead. Flopping. A foot that was no longer connected to the muscle that moved it.
His leg buckled. Him falling.
She came out of the cartwheel. On her feet. Behind him. Both katanas up. And drove them down into his back.
The right-hand katana entered between the fourth and fifth thoracic vertebrae. A gap where the spinal canal was closest to the surface. The blade passing through the intervertebral disc. Through the spinal canal. Through the spinal cord.
The spinal cord severed. A bundle of nerve fibers that carried every signal between the brain and the body. And now carried nothing. The body below the cut. Dead. The legs not moving. The arms not moving. The chest not breathing. A diaphragm that was not receiving the signal to breathe.
The left-hand katana entered between the fifth and sixth ribs. An intercostal space. The blade passing through the intercostal muscle. Through the pleura. Into the chest. Into the lung.
The lung pierced. Tissue tearing. Alveoli bursting. Air sacs releasing air into the chest cavity. A pneumothorax forming. The lung collapsing. Deflating like a balloon with a hole in it.
She pulled. Both katanas. Out. Fast. Not clean. Blades that were bloody and wet and being pulled from a body that did not want to let go. Tissue that had sealed around the steel. Muscle and fascia that were gripping. And the pulling tore. Flesh that came with. On the blade. Bloody. Wet.
The raider dropped. Dead.
The essence rose. A wisp. Gold. Faint. An Enhanced's life force leaving a body that was not alive anymore.
The void. A slit. In the air. Behind the compound wall. Jae-min. Pulling. The wisp. In. Absorbed.
One.
— • • • —
She did not stop. Did not pause. The next raider was already there. Already swinging. A speed-type. Fast. Coming from the left. A blur.
Ji-yoo was above. She saw the blur. Saw it coming for the woman in white. And pulled the trigger.
Soulcleaver. Rifle mode. The gravitational round hit the snow in front of the speed-type. Not at him. In front of him. A gravity well. Three meters.
The speed-type hit the well at sixty kilometers per hour. A man running at full speed hitting a wall of compressed gravity.
His ribs cracked. Not from the impact itself. From the deceleration. A body going from sixty to zero in less than a meter. The same as hitting a concrete wall at sixty.
The ribs cracking. Multiple. Bones bending beyond their structural tolerance. Breaking. Snapping inward. Bone fragments driven into the chest cavity. Sharp. In the chest. Not supposed to be there.
The lung pierced. By rib fragments. Tissue torn. Alveoli bursting. The lung already not in good shape from the deceleration. An organ that had been compressed against the spine by the force of the stop. And was now pierced by bone.
The speed-type. On the ground. In the snow. Gasping. A man whose lungs were not working. Organs filling with blood. Drowning from the inside.
The woman in white was there. Before he could recover.
She did not walk. She did not run. She backflipped over the stunned raider. Her body rotating. Her katanas trailing. The blades catching his throat on the way over.
Both blades. Both sides of the throat. A scissor cut.
The right-hand katana entered the left side of the neck. Through the skin. Through the subcutaneous fat. Through the platysma. Through the sternocleidomastoid. Muscles being severed. Fibers cutting.
Through the carotid sheath. A structure that contained the carotid artery. The jugular vein. The vagus nerve. All being cut.
The carotid artery severed. An artery that was pumping blood at pressure. Now not in the artery. Out. Spraying. Arterial. Bright red. Pulsing with each heartbeat.
The left-hand katana entered the right side of the neck. The same. Mirror. Through the right carotid. Through the right jugular. Vessels severed. Bleeding.
Both blades meeting in the middle. Through the trachea. A windpipe cut. In two pieces. The upper half attached to the mouth. The lower half attached to the lungs. A tube no longer carrying air.
The head still attached. Barely. A neck mostly severed. Holding by the spine. The last thing connecting the head to the body.
She landed. Behind him. On her feet. The raider dropping. Dead. A man whose carotid arteries were both severed and whose trachea was cut and whose blood was everywhere. On the snow. On the woman in white's coat. Bright red. Pulsing. Then not pulsing. Because the heart had stopped. Because there was no blood left to pump.
Essence. Gold. Faint. The void. A slit. Pulled. In.
Two.
— • • • —
Ji-yoo converted. Mid-air.
Soulcleaver shifting. The rifle collapsing. The blade rotating. The shaft extending. The scythe reforming. A weapon that was a scythe again. The eight-foot blade. The dimensional edge. Humming.
She dropped. Fast. Not falling. Diving. Gravity pulling her down. Accelerating. A woman who was twenty meters up and coming down fast. At a group of five raiders.
She swung. Soulcleaver. The dimensional edge. At the apex of her dive. The cut traveling through the air. Through the snow.
Five raiders in the path. The edge hit them.
The dimensional edge did not cut matter. It cut space. The space of the waist. A horizontal line at the level of the L3 vertebra. Between the lower ribs and the hip bones. A place where the body was vulnerable.
The space severed. A dimensional cut that was not cutting flesh. Was cutting the space the flesh occupied. A gap between the upper body and the lower body. The two no longer connected.
Five men. Bisected. At the waist. Five upper halves. Five lower halves.
The upper halves falling forward. Torsos not supported by legs anymore. Hitting the snow. Face first.
The lower halves falling backward. Legs not supported by torsos. Hitting the snow. Ass first.
The blood. Everywhere. Pouring from the severed waists. Cross-sections exposed. The spine. Cut. The aorta. Severed. The largest artery in the body. Pumping blood out. Arterial. Bright red. Pouring into the snow. Melting it. Then freezing. Crystallizing in the minus-seventy.
The intestines. Spilling. Loops of bowel coming out through the severed waists. Pink. Coiled. Steaming in the minus-seventy.
Five men. Dead. Ten pieces. In the snow. Surrounded by blood. And intestines.
Five essences. Gold. Rising. The void. Five wisps. Pulled. In.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
— • • • —
Ji-yoo landed. In the middle of the dead. On her feet. A woman who had just dive-bombed five raiders and landed like it was nothing.
Her grip shifted on the shaft. The scythe sweeping. Not just cutting. Controlling. The blade arcing in wide pendulum swings. Eight feet of blade. Forty kilograms. Swung by a woman who weighed fifty-five.
A kick. Roundhouse. Not Enhanced. Trained. Months of sparring. A twin who had been fighting since she was six. The kick catching a raider in the jaw.
The jaw dislocated. A mandible out of its socket. The raider's mouth open. And not closing.
The raider spinning. From the kick. Into the path of the scythe.
The scythe coming around. The dimensional edge. The cut traveling. Through the air. Through the.
The raider bisected. At the chest. A cut between the T6 and T7 vertebrae. At the level of the heart. Through the heart. In two pieces. Cut horizontally. Through both ventricles. Chambers open. Blood pouring out.
The lungs also cut. In two pieces. Upper lobes and lower lobes. Separated.
The aorta severed. Blood pouring. The spine cut. In two.
The raider. Two pieces. Upper half. Lower half. Dead.
Essence. Gold. The void. Pulled. In.
Eight.
— • • • —
A raider came from the right. A fire-type. Hands flaming. Throwing fire.
Ji-yoo did not dodge. She converted. Scythe to rifle. In less than a second.
She fired. Not at the fire-type. At the fire. The gravitational round hitting the fireball in the air. Detonating. Creating a gravity well. In the fire. The fire being pulled into the well. Compressed. Extinguished.
The fire-type stared. At the space where his fire had been.
Ji-yoo converted. Rifle to scythe. The blade extending. She swung. The dimensional edge.
The fire-type bisected. At the neck. A clean separation. The head coming off. Separating from the body at the C4-C5 level. The spinal cord cut. Thick. In two.
The head falling one way. The body falling another.
The blood. After. Pouring from the neck stump. A cross-section that showed everything. The trachea. The esophagus. The carotid arteries. The jugular veins. All cut. All bleeding.
A fountain. Arterial. Spurting. Three meters from the neck stump. In the snow. Red. Then dark. Then frozen.
Essence. Gold. The void. Pulled. In.
Nine.
— • • • —
The woman in white was everywhere.
A raider hit her. A strength-type. His fist connecting with her jaw. Her head snapping to the side. Her jaw broke. Cracked. Bone that gave.
She did not stop.
The regeneration. Three seconds. The bone knitting. The tissue closing. The pain gone. She was already moving. Already at the raider. Who was staring at the woman whose jaw had been broken and was now not.
The right-hand katana into his stomach. Through the abdominal wall. Through the peritoneum. In.
She twisted. The blade rotating inside the abdominal cavity. Grinding against organs. Tearing. A stomach cut open. Spilling its contents into the abdominal cavity. Stomach acid burning the peritoneum.
The liver nicked. Bleeding. An organ full of blood. Now leaking.
She pulled. The katana out. Blood on the blade. On her hand. On the raider's stomach. A wound open. Bleeding. Leaking stomach contents.
She drove the left-hand katana into his throat. Not the side. The front. Through the trachea. A windpipe pierced. Open. The blade through the back of the throat. Through the spine. At C6. Below the phrenic nerve. The nerve that controlled the diaphragm. Cut.
The diaphragm not receiving signals. Not moving. Not breathing.
She pulled. The blade out. The throat open. Front to back. A hole. In the front of the neck. And in the back.
Blood pouring. From the front. From the back. Arterial. Spurting from the carotid arteries. Both cut. Both open. Both pumping blood out.
The raider. Dead. A man whose throat was a hole. And whose stomach was open. And whose liver was bleeding. And whose spine was cut.
Essence. Gold. The void. Pulled. In.
Ten.
— • • • —
She flipped over a raider. Her body rotating. Katanas trailing. The blades catching his spine on the way over.
The spine severed. At T3. Above the heart. Through the spinal cord. The body below T3 dead. Not receiving signals. Paralyzed from the chest down. Not moving. Not breathing. The diaphragm below T3. Not receiving signals.
She landed. Behind him. On her feet. The raider dropping. Not dead yet. Paralyzed. Suffocating. A brain losing oxygen. Dying slowly.
She drove both katanas into the back of his skull. Through the occipital bone. A bone at the back of the head where the skull was thickest. But not thick enough. Cracking. Opening.
The blades in. The brain. An organ being pierced. By two katanas. From behind. Through the cerebellum. A structure that controlled balance and coordination. Being sliced.
Through the brainstem. A structure that controlled breathing and heartbeat. Being cut.
The heart stopped. The breathing stopped.
Dead.
Essence. Gold. The void. Pulled. In.
Eleven.
— • • • —
She drew the Glocks. Mid-flip. Fired. At three raiders. Knees.
The 9mm hollow points hitting kneecaps. Patellas shattering. Exploding into fragments. Bone fragments driven into the knee joint. The meniscus torn. The ligaments severed. The knee not a knee anymore. A bag of bone fragments and blood and torn cartilage.
Men dropping. Knees gone. In the snow.
She holstered. Drew the katanas. Same motion.
Three cuts. Three throats. Fast.
The first cut. Left to right. Through the throat. Carotid severed. Jugular severed. Trachea severed. The throat open. Blood pouring.
The second cut. Right to left. Through another throat. The same.
The third cut. Across. Through a third throat. The same.
Three men. Dead. Throats open. Blood in the snow.
Three essences. Gold. The void. Three wisps. Pulled. In.
Twelve.
Thirteen.
Fourteen.
— • • • —
Ji-yoo converted. Scythe to rifle. Fired. A gravitational round at a raider. The round hitting the ground. The gravity well pulling the raider in. Pinned.
She converted. Rifle to scythe. Dived. The scythe. The dimensional edge. The cut through the pinned raider. At the waist. Bisected. Two pieces. Blood. Intestines. Steaming in the snow.
Essence. Gold. The void. Pulled. In.
Fifteen.
She was the sky and the scythe and the gravity and the dimensional edge. Her scythe was a pendulum. Swinging. Spinning. The blade arcing around her body. A wall of dimensional edge. Anything entering was cut.
Three raiders. Running at her. Entering the wall. Bisected. At the waist. Three dead in one spin. Six pieces. Blood. Intestines. Organs. Steaming. In the snow.
Three essences. Gold. The void. Three wisps. Pulled. In.
Sixteen.
Seventeen.
Eighteen.
She converted. Rifle. Fired. A raider pulled off his feet by gravity. The woman in white. Both Glocks. At the raider in the air. Bullets hitting his chest.
9mm hollow points entering the chest. Expanding inside the chest cavity. Tearing through lungs. Through the heart. Through the aorta.
The raider. In the air. Dead. Before he hit the ground.
Essence. Gold. The void. Pulled. In.
Nineteen.
— • • • —
The woman in white. Cartwheeled between two raiders. Her katanas trailing. The blades catching both throats. On the way through. Two blades. Two throats. One cartwheel.
The first throat. The katana entering from the left. Through the skin. Through the muscles. The carotid artery severed. Blood spurting. Bright red. The trachea cut. Air hissing from the lungs through the cut.
The second throat. The same. From the right. Carotid severed. Trachea cut. Blood spurting.
Two men. Dead. Throats open. Blood in the snow.
Two essences. Gold. The void. Two wisps. Pulled. In.
Twenty.
Twenty-one.
— • • • —
The horde broke.
Nine raiders who had seen twenty-one of their own drop. A slaughter that was not slowing. Was accelerating.
Some fled. Men who were not cocky anymore. Were afraid. Predators who had, for five months, never been afraid. And were now.
But some did not flee. Some fought. Men who were not afraid. Were angry.
Ji-yoo landed. On the ground. Next to the woman in white. Two. On the ground. Back to back.
"Hey." Ji-yoo offered, her voice fierce. Not to the horde. To the woman in white. A twin who was speaking directly to the woman who could not speak back.
The woman in white turned her head. Slightly. Toward Ji-yoo. Acknowledging.
"You fight good." Ji-yoo offered, her voice fierce. A twin who was breathing. For one moment.
The woman in white nodded. Once.
"My brother trusts you." Ji-yoo offered, her voice fierce. "I do not know why. But he does. He let you fight beside him. He let you dance with him. He touched your arm. In the tango. He does not touch people. Not like that. Not people he does not trust. And he trusts you. I do not know why. But he does. And if he trusts you."
She paused.
"I trust you too." Ji-yoo offered, her voice fierce. A twin who was giving a thing that the woman in white had not been given. By anyone. In the compound. Not trust. Not from the twin. Not from the sister of the man she loved.
The woman in white was still. For one moment. Not moving. Not breathing.
Trust.
A word that was there. In the air. Between the twin and the woman in white. A thing that she had been building for five months. One fight at a time. One step at a time. And was now being given. Not earned. Not built. Given. By the twin.
The woman in white nodded. Once. Not a small nod. A real nod. A woman who was giving back.
She could not say thank you. Could not say anything. But the nod was enough.
"Good." Ji-yoo offered, her voice fierce. "Because there are more."
There were more. Nine raiders. Still there. Circling. Some afraid. Some angry. Some both.
Ji-yoo raised Soulcleaver. Scythe mode. The eight-foot blade. The dimensional edge. Humming.
The woman in white raised the katanas. Both. Back to back.
Sky and ground.
They moved.
— • • • —
Twenty-two.
Twenty-three.
Twenty-four.
Ji-yoo. Scythe. Spinning. The blade arcing around her body. A wall of dimensional edge. Two raiders running into the wall. Bisected. At the waist. Four pieces. Blood. Intestines. In the snow.
The woman in white. Glocks. Firing. At a raider's knees. The kneecaps shattering. The raider dropping. She holstered. Drew the katanas. Same motion. Both blades through the throat. The throat cut. Blood pouring. The carotid severed. The trachea cut. Dead.
Three essences. Gold. The void. Three wisps. Pulled. In.
Twenty-five.
Twenty-six.
Twenty-seven.
Ji-yoo converted. Rifle. Fired. A gravitational round at two raiders running away. The round hitting the ground behind them. The gravity well pulling them back. Toward the two women.
The woman in white. Was there. When they arrived. The katanas up. And down. Through the skulls.
The blades entering through the top of the cranium. Where the skull was thin. Giving to steel. In. The brain. Being sliced. The brainstem severed. The heart stopped. The breathing stopped. Dead.
Two essences. Gold. The void. Two wisps. Pulled. In.
Twenty-eight.
Twenty-nine.
The last raider. Ran. Alone. A man who was not fighting. Was fleeing. A predator who had seen twenty-nine of his own drop and was not a predator. Was prey.
Ji-yoo pulled. Gravity. A gravity field that grabbed the man and held him. In the snow. Pinned.
The woman in white walked. To the man. Calm. A fighter walking to a man who was pinned by gravity.
She raised the katana. And drove it down. Into his skull. Through the bone. Through the brain. Through the brainstem. Out the back of the neck. A blade that had gone through a man's entire head.
She pulled. The blade out. Wet. Bloody. Steel that had been in a skull and was now not.
Dead.
Essence. Gold. The void. Pulled. In.
Thirty.
— • • • —
Day 178. 12:15 hours.
Outside the compound.
The snow field.
They stood. In a field of dead.
Thirty raiders. In the snow. Men who had come for the mansion. For the food. For the supplies. For the warmth. For the women. And were dead.
The snow was not white anymore. Red. Blood everywhere. On the snow. On the bodies. On the pieces. Torsos. And legs. And heads. And arms. And intestines. In the snow. Steaming. Freezing.
Ji-yoo and the woman in white. Back to back. Standing. In the field. Two women who were not fighting. Were breathing. Alive.
Inside the compound. Jae-min stood. Still. His spatial awareness mapping. Thirty signatures. Gone. Thirty essences. Absorbed. The void fuller. A soul holding more than before. A man stronger than before.
He did not stop to feel it. Was fighting. Was inside. But the void was fuller. And the essence was there. Inside him.
Ji-yoo looked at the woman in white. Not at her back. At her. A twin who had said trust. And was looking at the woman she had trusted.
The woman in white looked at Ji-yoo. Not at her back. At her. A woman who had been given trust. And was looking at the twin who had given it.
They did not speak. Did not need to. Two women who had fought together. And had killed together. And were breathing together.
Enough. For one moment.
Then Ji-yoo raised Soulcleaver. Scythe mode. The blade humming. And the woman in white raised the katanas. Both. And the two turned toward the compound. Toward the war.
They moved. Toward the compound.
To finish.