Fragile (Slow Updates)

Chapter 17: Sanitise

Sergent Dubois, unconscious from being treated like a human rag doll as Sous-lieutenant Vogel tended to her. Removing her SMB plate carrier by pulling the quick release tab, getting her two tourniquets around her right and left leg. Examining the extent of the five stab wounds. Applying QuikClot to the stab wounds in an attempt to stop the bleeding and wrapping her decapitated leg wound the best he could with field dressing.

The Legionnaire pressed his other hand against Dubois' body. 'My body is going to hate me tomorrow.' He used his own healing abilities to stabilize her but there was no telling how far the damage was without getting her medivaced. The most he could do was make her feel comfortable and make sure she didn't bleed to death from such deep and violet stab wounds, blood loss and shock from losing her leg. Sure he could heal wounds to an extent but regrowing legs, patching together organs and fixing a damaged wisdom cube was not a miracle he could perform.

The Legionnaire pressed his other hand against Dubois' body. "My body's going to hate me tomorrow." He muttered to no one, channeling his own healing ability into her fragile frame. He could feel her life slipping, feel the damage beneath the surface: organs torn, blood pooling, her wisdom cube flickering faintly like a dying star. He could stabilize her, but he couldn't save her—not here, not now.

As the smoke cleared everyone could see the lifeless body of the Sergent as the Sous-lieutenant tended to her but they also saw his anger. How his aura pulsatated rapidly, leaking more blood as the orange hue of flames increased in brightness.

The battlefield hushed as the smoke cleared, revealing the lifeless body of the Sergent and the Sous-lieutenant Vogel crouched over her, shrouded in an aura that pulsatated rapidly, an heart leaking more blood as the orange hue of flames increased in brightness.

He was angry and that alone couldn't describe his emotional state.

In his mind, her voice echoed even if it felt like she was nearby. 'Well my Emperor, are you just going to stand there or are you going to do something?'

He could almost see her—those icy eyes and that infuriating smile, cutting through his anguish like a knife.

'You don't control me.' The Legionnaire shot back.

'Oh.' He could feel her arm wrapped around her neck, finger cursing his flesh. It felt so real yet she wasn't there. 'Who abandoned you after the mission went sideways? Who made the decision to be fused to a black wisdom cube? To be stronger? To be loved?'

A deep tired sigh left his lips. Her icy sensation running the course of his spine. 'Ya ya, I get it. You don't have to spell it out.' A smirk forming. 'You can't put a price on life.' He huffed as he cracked his neck, materializing his FN Scar-H PR equipped with a Schmidt & Bender 1-8×24mm day scope and bipod sling it behind him while keeping his HK416 F at the ready, 40 mm airburst round loaded. Time to prove why he's ranked number five in the world. 'Too naive a lot of them. They all think we should abide by morals. Truth be, who needs morals and to talk things out when a bullet can solve all the world's problems. We live in a burning world, sometimes it's best to add to the flames. War only cares about who's left.'

Emerging first from the smoke and flames of the burning water was Roon. Her left arm on fire and blood smearing her face. A psychotic look in her eyes as the light reflected off her irises. 'You would think it was probably the smoke irritating her eyes but you would be wrong.' She just has the natural murderer look at him as she embraces the fact there was fire all around with a playful smile and unbothered by the fact the herself was on fire. A quick thing Z23 though quickly put an end to that splashing water onto her burning arm. Her fingers danced around the flames, oil and blood mixture igniting.