Actions

Work Header

Soldiers Solace

Summary:

Jun is a lower A-rank hunter, running with a to-be-guild strike squad.
Or at least that's going to be 'was' pretty soon. Given that she's dying 15 metres from the gate exit, mortally wounded.

Now you ask, what could go wrong on a good day of dungeon running?

She'll tell you what, an assosciation fuck up.

How did she get here again? And why does she feel the need to protect this man before her, if it's the last thing she does?

''Your name will be Twin.''

Alright. Right now, my name will be Twin.

Notes:

Welcome to another one of my Brainchildren!

After I finnicked a bunch of writing (60 pages) in my phone notes, I thought, maybe I'll solidify this gremlin's existence in reality by actually sending it into the world.

So here we are.

As always, I send a shameless OC insert to disrupt the timeline of a fictional universe.
A lot of concepts about the system and how the shadows power work are at my nubby fingers mercy, so there's that.

Also, cursing and-
SPOILERS AHEAD.

I do try to follow the timeline and events (kind of). So if you haven't read the webcomic or the novel, some things might be sweet, sweet spoilers.

I hope you have fun!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter Text

I lay here, and abruptly realize, i'm dying.

Feeling my mana trying to frantically keep my body functional, alive, breathing. Leaking out of open veins and dispersing among the already charged air in this god forsaken dungeon.

How long the stay on the floor has been going on for is a question that appears to stay unanswered, but it's a surprising amount in my humble opinion. Almost too long. Not being particularly mana sensitive doesn't mean that i can't notice the amount of mana still leaking doesn't mach the amount that was originally mine.

A low A-rank doesn't have this kind of capacity. Not in this way anyhow.

What abysmal luck.
Shit broken mana meter of the association. When i get my hands to the employee of the quality check i'll show them what they get for making me miss my game time with Murui.

If, I get out at least...

Opening my eyes, which is a task and a half on it's own, the blurry and tilted sight of the ground slowly clears. The gate casts the cave in blue shades and makes the red stained sword that lays a bit further glimmer and sparkle.

It's twin nowhere to be found, flung out of my hand at some point.

Slowly, the dense fog in my mind clears and my minds eye reveals how the fuck i even got here.

The party never stood a chance, it was a miracle that there wasn't a full wipeout of the whole strike squad. No one even had the time to see what monsters it were.

The high B-rank tank, Tanghyul: gentle gaint, divorced with one kid, was the first to fall.

I've seen the man push through a lot of shit, but the heavy poleaxe that came down from the darkness behind a corner cleaved through his barrier and shield like butter.
In a last dich effort to buy time he'd kept the attention of the beasts on him for a few seconds longer with some kind of taunt skill.

There was no time to save him.

The whole of the group made a mad dash for the entrance in a cruel imitation of childhood ''the one last to the door is stupid" shenanigans.
The tunnels seemingly endless.

After all, we'd been walking and dispaching a few small monsters for a good hour.

All that mattered was getting out alive.

First to fall back were the c-ranks and other hunters that didn't have physical enhancement in their skillset. All awakened beings had heightened stamina, sure. But hunters like mages weren't built to sprint for long periods of time.

Captain Hanyoung tried keeping all the panicked hunters in formation to keep as many alive as possible but even then.

Some stumbled and fell behind, some tried to help the fallen, only to be pierced and smashed by spears and halberds.

After fifteen minutes we were in the home stretch, pretty much all c-rank and low B-ranks had fallen off and met their fate. Fear had drenched every hunter in desperation as the thundering sounds of what seemed like a horde came closer to our backs.

The captain, oh sweet Hanyoung, though arriving first to the gate, began helping others get through. Most of them all but leaping towards the swirling mass with no regard for landing safely.

Though low A-rank, I brought up the rear with a young boy, a healer around 18-ish I think he was. We were fifteen metres away when the kid stumbled, rolled foreward but flunked the landing and slipped, landing on his side instead of his feet.

Being right behind him I had to jump over or fall myself. And I, stupidly might I add, did neither of those.

Pushing everything I had left into my legs I hooked my hands under his arms, and with all the momentum and strength accumulated, flung him towards the gate. Towards Hanyoung, towards safety. Bringing me to an unfortunate standstill.

Hanyoung had been staring over my shoulder with the biggest eyes known to man untill the child came flying into his chest and flung him out of the dungeon with the impact.

The screetching of the halt my relief had flowed over to the screetching of my sense of danger and awakened instinct, and time slowed down to a crawl.

Unsheathing one sword with my right hand and preparing the same for the other I turned and swung upwards blindy only to meet the edge of a heavy cleaving halberd. A head on collision was futile, and my arm buckled and let the axeblade slide off my sword to the side.

Pain flared in my shoulder in as I drew the other twin with my left whilst the other clattered out of my twitching right. This motherfucker had dislocated my shoulder with only one blow. Shit.

With the crash of the weapon cratering the ground next to me in my ears, my eyes finally registered who, or rather what, was at the end of the alarmingly heavy poleaxe. And I'm pretty sure I overtook Hanyoung's record of wide eyes.

Centaurs.
Five, bulky, six meter high, fucking centaurs.

The anger that raged through me suddenly was something of the like I'd never encountered before. It felt like liquid fire spread through my veins while my lungs expanded with something I can only describe as cold and fresh like they had enlarged threefold. My eyesight so terrifyingly clear and sharp that I could nearly see my reflection in the glassy yellow beady eyes of the approaching monsters. Their heavy gaits resounding through the rushing in my ears.

My entire being yearned for their blood, craved it to vent my buried anger and frustration. But a fight would be futile, even with this sudden boost of, well, everything really.

Pivoting on my right leg I'd leapt towards the gate, only hearing a slight 'shing' before the sight of the gate blurred as my body was flung to the side wall of the cave and my head was smacked against stone, eyes seeing white, only to fade to black.

The cough that takes me back to the present racks throug my body and pain shoots through the numbness and cold, making me convulse in agony, in turn making everything hurt worse. Amazing.

From how I'm laying now, the gate swirls and shimmers 10 metres or so away. So close, yet not a possability for me anymore. What a shit way to go. Literal few steps from safety.

In between me and salvation is a clump of cloth, next to the glimmering twin.
It takes a second before it sinks in that said clump of cloth, stained and dirty as it may be, is the same type of cloth I wear as my hunter gear. And has the same type of arm brace that I tied to my arms this morning.

My breath comes out in muted ghasps as I try to move my left arm. And I'm pretty sure I did, but there is no pain, no sound of fabric or leather creaking, no resistance of the securely wrapped wrist.

Of course not, the appendage I'm trying to move Is right in front of me, still clutching one of my prized twins. Shit.

Shit, shit, shit. Fuck!

Instead of expected racing thoughts or flashing memories, there's a cold silence in my head. Here and there twitches a muscle, but it doesn't even hurt anymore.
It doesn't even matter anymore.

I'd imagined dying to be instant, crushed by a boulder, ripped by teeth or sliced by blade. Or bawling as agony rips through my body as I give a last cry of life.

Not this. This agonizingly painful slow depletion of warmth and feeling. The mana I enjoyed feeling the flow of within and around me all but pouring out together with the blood that pools in the dips of the ground and sticks to my skin. Cold and coppery in smell and taste. Hearing my own gurgling lungs struggle to keep air were it belongs.
I woul never have thought death to be so empty.
Despite the numbness I feel tears still stream down my face through all the caked blood and dirt.

Purely out of spite, and resulting in a lot of pain, I spit blood at the gate. Godforsaken gates and their ass-hat monsters.

''Sorry Murui,'' it's more loosely shaped air than a whisper, ''we'll have that game night-'' a small ghasp comes instead of an inhale. Damn it!
''-another... time...''

And finally, the emptyness of my body takes my senses and conciousness as well.

To nothingness.