Somewhere near the Mausoleum Exits
"You're all a bunch of pathetic losers, you know that?" the boy with a bleeding face said before getting a smack on his face.
He and his group had just been ambushed by the camouflage-wearing mercenaries on their way back to the exit.
"Stop hitting him! You already have what you want right? Let us go," the young woman from their group shouted, her eyes puffy from crying.
The bleeding boy and woman were two of a four member group who had rapidly made their way to the inner depths before deciding to cut back once they were sure they didn't have the endurance to fight anymore. As they always did.
The mercenaries on the other hand had stayed back near the entrances, allowing the rest of the fighters to go through.
Their usual modus operandi was pre-decided to ambush the returning members who were already exhausted from the fight and steal their stuff.
But they weren't very pleased with the day's haul. Especially their leader Abbas, who was feeling jittery with the prospect of failure.
The Mosh, as they called themselves, were a dying group of mercenaries.
Fighting overseas had dwindled their numbers, ate up their resources with nothing left for a future and the mercenary world was as competitive as it was a ruthless one.
Add to that mix the Inborns and Awakeners, you had to be really lucky to make it big without incurring devastating losses.
This was to be their last mission together before they fled and went underground onto their separate ways. But with this amount of booty, they could barely survive a week.
"This is bullshit, what kind of gameplan was this even, huh? We've got nothing to show for it." Abbas yelled at a bald mercenary next to him.
"Please just let me think for a minute." Baldy tried to calm his boss down but he did not have much to soothe the man.
"Oh now you wanna think. You should've been thinking way before when you made this stupid plan."
"It wasn't just his plan, it was all of ours. You had a part too." Another mercenary came to the aid of the bald one.
"Then you're all idiots. And I'm probably the biggest of them all." Abbas scoffed and played nervously with his rifle's stock.
A few feet away from the hubbub a solitary figure in a green clad hoodie sat on the floor with his head down and one knee bent.
His one hand resting on the top of it and the other fidgeting with his dress. He was the only Awakener in their mercenary group who had been hired at the last moment for unforeseen circumstances.
"I really hope you're thinking of something useful for once Awakener," Abbas called out to him.
"No comment," the green hood muttered.
Abbas spat on the ground in frustration.
"We even wasted money and the bit of pull I had leveraged on the green guy for nothing. God, I could cry," Abbas bemoaned his fate and stared up at the rock, hands on his hips.
His henchman smirked, "the guy's a true scaler. He's just like they're all said to be."
The term 'scaler' was like an unofficial name that some referred to the Awakeners by.
While there were some who argued it was like a slur of sorts, most would insist it was based on the way they made gradual use of their abilities during battles.
After a moment of silence Abbas turned to his group with a sigh.
"Yeah I think we need to get rid of them." He pointed to the injured four who could barely look up.
Abbas snapped his fingers towards the lone Awakener, "oi, Muni. Chop, chop. Make yourself useful and dispose of them."
Muni grunted, his head swiveling with a sudden turn, "excuse me?"
"You heard me. Get moving or you ain't getting paid."
Muni began to breathe heavily, almost angry.
As an Awakener of his range, he could easily defeat him and his mercenary group but he wasn't without strings.
Someone was always above him and he was at their beck and call. So he moved reluctantly. Not because he hated killing but he was simply dissatisfied with these ones he was about to undertake.
Getting up, he dusted himself and pulled his sword out from the scabbard on his waist.
It was a shiny silvery blade from the talwar type which had a curved end at the top. He winced as he pierced the tip on his finger and felt its sharpness.
He stood straight, right above the cowering four. "Alright, who's first?" he asked with a bored tone.
For a moment there was silence as the four of them registered what he had just said.
Then they began to break down one by one, begging, making a racket. Anything to delay their fate.
One of them, a scrawny bespectacled man crawled towards Muni, "hey I can give you guys more, no I can give you more just please spare me, ok? I wasn't even gonna refuse when–"
The guy screamed murder as his forearm got lopped off when Muni brought his sword in an upwards swing, sending it flying and landing a few feet away. Blood arcs scattered above and landed on them.
The other mercenaries chuckled at the display and Abbas groaned, "hey stop playing."
"Stay the fuck back! Everyone gets a turn to die," Muni's crude attempt at humor was not lost on the four as they huddled together.
Of course they all kept their distance from mister spectacles who was now tearing off his shirt to cover his bleeding wound.
RATATATAT!!
The sounds of gunfire echoed from behind Muni and he turned, lowering his sword.
"Fucking Rakshasas," Abbas spat and trained his gun before eyeing something to his side, "don't you dare pull that pin," Abbas warned as he shoved one of his buddies in the shoulder who was holding a grenade.
Ready to lob it in the caverns any second.
"Boss there's too many," the bald one said as he fired.
"We do it as we always do." Abbas insisted and took stock of the situation, "we hold them back and keep them distracted while broody over here," he gestured in Muni's direction, "culls them. Capeesh?"
"Finally," Muni walked forward past the ones in the back, "a real fight."
The mercenaries trained their guns on the shadows that danced towards them from a sharp left. Then they came. Seven of them. Rushing, pushing.
Still as ghastly as ever to look at and like rabid animals. Hair flailing, running on four legs, almost senseless.
Muni kept his sword in front of him, his grip tightening and eyes closed.
The air around him flickered a little and his sword changed colors, adopting a sharp green tinge as it blazed with energy.
Like Astral energy, handheld weapons took after its contemporary Shastras yet they shared the same composition that helped Awakeners use and abuse their powers via handheld weapons.
In Muni's case it was the sword, that has now been imbued with a construct of a powerful weapon and by extension allowed himself to be adept at using it through his body's might.
His green hood briefly fluttered at the change of his weapon and himself, the energy making them appear like he was in a windy space.
The first one got cut down in one fell swoop but Muni didn't stop. He went on to the next one and the ones he didn't engage his mercenary friends held them back with bullets peppering them.
Then there were two more down, and the rakshasas turned to the gunmen. One of them was too late to react and lost his head, which Muni expertly pierced through after killing the Rakshasa from behind.
"Sorry, he should've fought better," Muni said to an appalled Abbas.
But the mercenary leader couldn't bring himself to argue with him as he saw the dead Rakshasas around them, blood seeping out and dirtying the ground as Muni slowly stood up from his kneeling position.
"Was that a scale 5?" he asked, his finger still on the trigger.
Muni shook his head and asked for a cloth to clean his sword, "it's barely four."
He took the cloth offered and sat down, wiping his blade as his brows frowned.
"What is it?" Abbas had noted his tense stare.
"The beasts," Muni pointed with his sword, "they were a bit too weak. Even injured I'd say."
"So? They must've got into a fight within themselves or some Awakeners fucked them up."
"Not from weapons though. More with," Muni looked back at the dead more thoroughly, "brute force."
Abbas laughed, "yeah right. You're telling me there's some crazy person in there who's beating them with bare fists?"
"Not just beating. I'd say killing too. And savagely."
Abbas shivered a little but his attention was drawn to the hostages and he pointed his gun at them, "hey don't get ideas."
CRASH!
CRUMBLE!
Wind and smoke billowed into the corridor, almost choking them at the intensity and suddenness of the impact.
Multiple sounds of coughs and groans were heard before it all cleared out and a new figure emerged from the dust.
At first it looked like he loved to wear red. The way his entire body was covered in a sheen of it, his clothes being the most prominent of them.
But on a closer look they could make out it was blood. And he was walking to them drenched in it. From head to toe. And even smiling as he wiped his face.
The stumbling figure took a look at the dead corpses and then at them, "oh you guys got them huh? Been searching for them for a while."
He straightened up and walked into the light to reveal his face to them all.
Sanit wiped his mouth then realized how much he was covered in much of the grimy insides of the Rakshasas, "geez, this is really gonna take a good wash, huh?"