Virtual vs. Reality (Newt x Reader)

4

"This sucks."

"You didn't have to come."

"You didn't say it would be muddy."

"But I did tell you to wear good shoes, didn't I?"

"Hey. Those aren't just lying around, are they?"

"I'm a scavenger as well as a Runner, Minho. I take what I can get. Now stop complaining."

It had been a few days since Minho had joined up with Newt and Alby. They had had one more WCKD boy join them - Winston. Unlike Minho, this boy had no interest in being a Runner. He carried some gnarly blades on him, though, and Alby had taken to calling him the 'Slicer'.

Presently, it was Minho's first day as a Runner, and apparently it was not what he had imagined. Something more glorified, clearly.

Newt had scavenged a red jacket with white stripes on it, some durable black boots, and a retractable helmet. Alby thought it was made of some sort of nanite tech, but Newt just brushed it off and was grateful that all it took was the press of a button for the thing to go away. All that aside, when he collected his weapons for the specific mission, he felt secure and prepared.

Minho on the other hand grabbed a backpack, a Launcher, a smaller gun, and a couple of knives. Newt didn't know what he had in the backpack, but he was assuming it wasn't a good pair of shoes.

You learn as you go, he supposed.

So here they were, tracking through mud with guns out, scanning left and right for any VC321xb47 men. They were trying to come up with a simpler name for them, but all they'd come up with either Flare guys or Cranks. Minho was to be thanked for the latter.

"Sh," Newt suddenly whispered, effectively silencing Minho's complaints. He got down on one knee, completely disregarding the mud, and lifted his gun slightly higher. There were slow and methodic footsteps approaching them, and upon hearing them, Minho settled down in a similar position next to Newt, lifting his own gun and aiming.

After a moment, the first man came into sight. Burly with sleeves rolled up on his forearms, the brand clear on his wrist. Newt fired the first shot. The man collapsed on the ground, spasming only briefly. Minho fired off two other shots before the blond could even blink, effectively taking out the man's other two companions.

"Not bad," Newt said, staying down for a moment longer to make sure there were no others. He stood up, brushing his front off.

"Gotta be faster than that," Minho said, starting off again.

"Hey. I'm still here." His partner only snorted and shook his head, gaze locked up ahead. Newt lowered his gun and trotted after him.

"Alby said the boy - Gally - would be up here, right?" Minho asked after a few minutes of trudging through seemingly endless mud.

"Somewhere around here," Newt replied. He glanced to his left suddenly when a click sounded. He ducked just as a bullet shot over his head. Silencer. He turned quickly to his left and started firing, stopping when all his bullets clanged off concrete and wood. Minho was facing the same direction, only one hand on his gun, the other tense at his side.

"Get out of there," Newt finally growled, taking a step towards their attacker's hiding spot. Nothing. Another step, then another-

A man - he assumed as they were wearing a helmet - jumped out at him, effectively knocking the gun out of his hands and throwing him onto his back, the breath puffing out of him. Minho started firing immediately, but cried out when someone from behind fired off a shot, hitting him in his right leg. He dropped to one knee, turning his head and firing. There was a thump and the gunshots from that direction ceased.