"There are Metal Heads everywhere. Every part of the city is swarming with them!"

"I know that," Torn said.

With his back pressed against the wall, Torn carefully leaned to the left to peek around the corner without being seen. A Metal Head slammed a guard into a nearby projection device. As the device sparked, the hologram of the baron's logo flickered a few times. Dazed by the hit, the guard could do nothing to stop the creature from ripping his helmet off and tearing out his throat using its claws. Blood pouring from the neck wound, the guard's limp body dropped to the ground. The Metal Head began to turn its head towards where Torn stood, forcing him to duck back to avoid its attention. Farther away, another guard shouted, followed by a bang from a blaster and pained roar from the Metal Head. He glanced out again to see the second guard kicking the beast's body.

"Regroup, men! More are on the way!"

At least the guards provided a good distraction.

"Everything's gone to hell. What are we supposed to do?"

"Just focus on helping people get to safety. Protecting the citizens is our top priority. You do remember where to take them, right?"

"Yeah. And the guards?"

Torn snorted. "They're not going to go after any Underground members. They can barely handle the Metal Heads right now."

"Okay." There was a prolonged pause, then the person on the line said, "What are you planning to do?"

"I lost contact with Sasha's team when the Metal Heads invaded. I'm going to find them and have them join up with Krieg's team."

"Last I heard they were near the northern side of the fortress. Be careful, Torn."

As he shut the communicator off, he tightened the grip on his pistol. It wasn't far, but the rampaging monsters would make it difficult.

Taking in a deep breath, he rushed out of his hiding place and ran forward. Claws scraping across metal drew his attention upwards. A Metal Head leaped down off the roof of the nearest building at him with outstretched claws. He dived into a roll and came to a stop beside the dead guard's blaster the moment the beast hit the ground. As the creature lunged for him again, he hefted the blaster up and fired directly into its chest. The red blast sent it flying backwards into a wall. Before it could get to its feet, he began to fire a series of continuous shots into it. He didn't stop until the gem nestled in its skull popped out.

He did a quick ammo check to see how much the blaster still had. Displeased to see how little was left, Torn huffed and kneeled beside the guard's body to look for more. Luckily for him there was. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough to get him to the fortress. He reloaded the blaster and stood.

He looked to where the previous guard unit struggled to battle against a group of Metal Heads. Despite being equal in numbers, the guards were slowly being overwhelmed. It was now or never. Slinging the strap of the blaster over his shoulder, he took off running and gave the fighting enemies a wide berth. A small stray took a detour as it noticed him. When it jumped up, he sent it backwards with a blast. He double-checked to make sure no more were behind him, then focused on going forward.

As he turned down the street, he found it clear of Metal Heads, but roars farther to the south alerted him to there being more near the fortress. There were gunshots too—either from Sasha's team, or more guards.

When it came into view, he found Sasha and her men firing at Metal Heads. With them facing off against seven at once, the favors weren't in their odds. One jumped upwards, only to be sniped out of the air by Sasha. Torn swung the blaster up and ran forward. He shot the nearest one in the back. In retaliation it spun round and swiped at him. He dodged to the left and fired into its side, causing it to skid across the ground. He unloaded into it and turned to the others.

His arrival offered a brief distraction, just long enough to serve as an advantage. Soon the skull gems of the other Metal Heads bounced across the ground.

"Torn," Sasha said with breath of relief. "It is so good to see you."

He lowered the blaster and approached her. "What made you cut contact so suddenly?"

"Our communicators were busted when we got ambushed. Sorry, sir," she answered.

"All of them?" he asked.

There was a fleeting silence from her. She then muttered, "All of them."

That would explain the sudden burst of static when they had been talking earlier. With a heavy sigh, Torn pressed his fingers against his temples. "I need you to head to the Industrial District to meet up with Krieg's team. They're trying to get civilians out and need backup. You're the only available team."

"But sir, we're—" She stopped to breathe in through her nose. "Alton was separated from us. We're trying to find him."

Of course. He should have known things weren't going to get any easier.

"I'll look for him. Where did you last see him?"

She frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Near the entrance to the water slums."

"Alright. Update me as soon as you rendezvous with Krieg."

Sasha saluted. Following her example, her team also saluted. "Yes sir!"

He watched each of them reload their weapons. Trailing behind, he followed them to the end of the street. There they split up; the group headed off to right while Torn went left towards the water slums.

By the time he reached his destination, he had nearly exhausted all the blaster ammo. He slung it over his shoulder and walked forward, eyes scanning the wreckage around him. He checked each of the seven bodies scattered across the ground, but none of them were Alton. Unless the man had found a way to slip past him, the only other place Torn could think to look would be the water slums themselves. If that were the case it would be a major problem, as there was a possibility that he could be in the water. If he was dead, successfully recovering his body would be almost impossible.

Torn's gaze drifted to a trail of blood splotches leading into a damaged building.

Apprehensive, he followed the blood. As he entered through the broken wall, he glanced around until his eyes landed on a body.

"Shit," he muttered.

He kneeled beside Alton's body. Almost a dozen holes caused by a blaster riddled the corpse's torso, meaning that the man had been murdered by another person and not killed by a Metal Head.

"Who the hell would be killing other people at a time like this?"

He the sound approaching footsteps reached his ears seconds before the click of a gun made him dive to the right. A shot meant for his head left a scorched hole in the wall instead.

"Isn't this a pleasant surprise." The all too familiar voice of Erol made Torn clench his fist. Of course he had been the one. "The rat has finally been forced to come crawling out of his hole. I was looking for the Eco Freak, but you'll do nicely in the meantime. I just hope you put up more of a fight than that puny brat decomposing beside you did."

Torn placed a hand on the wall to get up on one knee. He couldn't waste what little ammunition he had left in the blaster; it needed to be saved for when he inevitably ran into more Metal Heads. He took the blaster strap off to tuck the weapon under a broken wooden shelf and pulled his knife out of its sheath. Then, moving slowly, he edged backwards step by step, making sure to keep himself low enough not to be seen through the holes in the wall. He positioned himself behind a piece of rubble and crouched.

"Not coming out, huh? I see you're still a coward." Erol scoffed. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised after the way you ran from the Krimson Guard."

Torn narrowed his eyes but remained silent. He watched Erol enter the building and glance around with a scowl.

"Come on, Torn. You know you can't hide forever."

He waited with bated breath.

The moment Erol turned his back to him, Torn surged forward. He wrapped an arm around Erol's neck and raised the knife up. As he swung the knife, Erol rammed his elbow into Torn's ribs. Instead of hitting its intended target, the blade went into Erol's shoulder. With a grunt he broke free and turned on his heel to point his gun at Torn. Torn caught Erol's wrist, preventing him from pulling the trigger. A hard twist forced him to drop the gun. Erol stumbling when he wrenched himself free gave Torn time to kick the weapon outside.

A punch to the face sent Torn staggering back. Erol tried to dash past, but Torn's speed allowed him to grab hold of Erol's arm before he could reach the gun. With a quick swing Torn punched Erol in the side. Erol retaliated by hitting Torn hard in the stomach. Since the breath had been knocked out of him, Torn couldn't stop Erol from sweeping his legs out from underneath him. He dropped face first to the ground.

Erol stomped down on his back and twisted his heel. Jaw clenched shut, Torn refrained from crying out, even as Erol proceeded to repeatedly kick him in the ribs and stomach. He stopped long enough for Torn to attempt to push himself up, then kicked him in the stomach again to make him fall back down.

With a snort Erol walked up to the gun and picked it up. As he turned back to Torn, a deadly grin spread across his face. He leisurely spun the gun in his hand while he sauntered forward.

"You really should take better care of yourself, you know. You're practically skin and bones compared to your guard days!"

Torn spat out of a wad of blood, then gritted his teeth and struggled to get up on his knees.

"To be honest, I expected a little more fight out of you. You've been such a thorn in my side since day one that I thought you'd be a challenge." He stopped spinning the gun, rolling Torn onto his back with his foot as he pointed the weapon down at Torn's chest. "But you're just as much of a disappointment now as you were then."

Erol's trigger finger twitched. Mustering what little strength he had left, Torn kicked Erol in the knee. It was enough to make Erol falter, his balance thrown off by his knee trying to give out. Torn pushed past the pain to scramble up to his feet. He rammed his shoulder into Erol, sending them both crashing to the ground. The gun skidded out of their reach. In the next instant Torn found Erol pinning him down, knees pressed against his sides and fingers digging into his throat. Torn struggled to reach for his knife, his fingers just brushing against the edge of the handle. Erol noticed and sneered.

"How about I kill you with your own knife?" Erol asked with a laugh.

He leaned over and grabbed hold of it. His hand tightened around Torn's neck when he held up the knife.

In a desperate bid to free himself, Torn punched Erol in the side of the head as hard as he could. The man's grip on him loosened enough for Torn to take a deep breath. He wrapped his hand around the knife and pulled, wrenching it away from Erol. A heartbeat later Torn stabbed the blade into Erol's neck and jerked it down.

He watched Erol fall to the ground beside him, hand weakly reaching for the knife. Torn tugged the knife out and stared at the blood pumping out of the wound until Erol became still.

Chest heaving, he tried his best to stand. The second he got to his feet the world spun around him. With his vision blurring, he staggered into the nearby wall for support. His legs struggling to hold him up, he placed his hand against a piece of rubble to better support his weight.

The minutes passed by, yet his strength refused to return. Instead he had to lower himself back to the ground, closing his eyes at the ever-growing tingling sensation in his legs. Walking was out of the question. He sighed and rubbed his hand against his face. How long before more Metal Heads showed up? There he was, too weak to take even a single step, no ammo, and only a knife to defend himself.

His communicator began to beep.

Groaning, Torn fumbled for the device. A burst of static made him grimace until Sasha's voice filtered through.

"Sir, my team successfully met up with Krieg's team," she reported. "Did…did you find Alton?"

He swallowed. Lord, his throat hurt. "I did," he said, voice even rougher than usual. "I'm sorry."

"…We will be able to bury him?"

At least he could offer a small bit of comfort to her, even if it wasn't much. "Yeah. His body is intact."

"Was it a Metal Head?"

Flexing his hand, Torn fixed a glare on the bloodied body of Erol. He ground out, "No, but I took care of the bastard who did it."

"Thank you, sir. Sasha out."

He shut the device off and tilted his head back.

All he needed was enough time for his legs to start working.

But would that only take a few more minutes, or longer? Just sitting there defenseless wasn't an option, not when—

"Torn?"

He blinked.

When he looked up, he saw Ashelin approaching him with quick steps. She tilted her head to the side, eyeing Erol's body with a neutral expression on her face. Though she openly expressed disgust towards the man many times, Torn wasn't sure how she felt about seeing him dead. She came to a stop and looked down at Torn with a much softer look.

"Hey," he muttered.

She motioned for him to sit forward, so he did, and then kneeled beside him to wrap her arm around his back. To brace himself he twisted his fingers into his pant leg. She stood up quickly; his head spun as dizziness washed over him, but it soon faded, leaving him staring at ground.

"You can explain once your wounds are treated," she said.

With his throat hurting the way it did, he opted to nod in response.

He was just glad she had found him.

He had the luck of the devil, didn't he?