Irredeemable

Hunt

Twelve's life had spiraled rapidly down into misery. Forced to hunt other vessels to survive, they were unfortunately very skilled in this act. They were sent out frequently, often after vessels that caused larger amounts of concern. A vessel found in Lurien's tower, one in the city of tears waterways, and even one spotted around the palace. Twelve had killed seventeen vessels. Their only escape was a friend, Eleven.

Eleven had large horns. They split at several points to form smaller horns, giving quite the set of antlers. Their cloak was strange among vessels, consisting of an overcloak and small fluff around the neck, looking almost like a tie. They wielded a pure nail. It was unclear where they had acquired such a powerful weapon, but the king's riches and influence were likely enough to afford hundreds of them.

The two spoke frequently, even if their speaking was more thinking at each other. They had both grown to despise the king, the failure of a father that frequently used them to slaughter his other children for the simple crime of surviving. They knew that he could tell what they thought, but has long stopped caring. He knew they hated him. It didn't matter to him, as long as they continued to carry out his dirty work, slaying their siblings to survive. The existence of the hunters was torture. And it was one the king delighted in.

Unfortunately, the king returned all too soon to order the next hunts. Six and Eleven were assigned together, as were Three and Nine. This left Twelve's partner as Two. They knew Two was ruthless from the one hunt they had been on with them. Their poor target never stood a chance. Although Two had suddenly stiffened and altered their fighting style, giving an opening for their opponent to provide a large scar across Two's skull. When the deed was done, Two had simply bandaged it as though nothing happened.

"Twelve, Two, you are to venture into Greenpath." The king spoke.

"There you will find your target. You must ensure that you are not seen by passerby unless absolutely necessary."

"Your target is One."

The king's words had a significant weight to them. One was the original hunter, one that had broken free of the King and opposed him. Two seemed more eager than before. Too eager. They supposed it made some sense, as Two was frequently compared to One. They looked similar, had the same weapon, and even almost the same fighting style. The major difference between them, was loyalty. One had broken free of the king's grip, while Two simply made themself comfortable. Two had packed almost every possession they had. If they hadn't known Two, Twelve would have thought they were running away. For the lack of emotion Two tried to portray, it was easy to tell that this was personal.

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Greenpath was filled with bugs making the pilgrimage to Hallownest. Their hope for a new start was a stark contrast to the hunters, just out of sight. The pair scanned their surroundings, searching for any sign of their target.

Across from them, on a ledge on the other side of the road, there was a slight movement. Two leapt from their spot, rushing toward a nearby light pole. Scurrying quickly up, they leapt and grabbed an overhanging vine. Using it, they swung across the path to the other side without being noticed. Shortly after, a bucket charged across the road, stopping by Two. Twelve removed their camouflage and the pair carried on.

Two wasted no time in making sure Twelve was following. While the vessel was doing their best, Two's habit of using the environment to make their chase easier and Twelve's more difficult was definitely slowing Twelve's pace. Finally, at long last, Twelve caught up to their current partner. And standing only a few feet away, was One.

One was very similar in appearance to Two. Their faces were the same. Their eyes were the same. They wielded the same weapon. They even wore the same cloak, although One's was purple now. The only difference between them, was their horns. Two had horns that went out and then angled towards each other, compared to One's small, curled horns, that barely left their head.