The War Continues

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13. The War Continues

The break was up. Every student was lined out, row after row of Gifted students and adults alike. Vaan was apart of the front row, his face scrunched up in anger and anticipation.

They were waiting, patiently.

It was like any action war movie that took place in medieval times. Like that one battle from the Lord of the Rings where Legolas was counting all the things he was killing. Vaan couldn’t remember exactly, but it was an amusing comparison.

And there they were. Rows and rows of men and women in black suits, guns in there hands, helmets for head protection.

It was this weird clash of modern day and ancient roman warriors, just standing there. And then finally they all surged forward, hacking and slashing and shooting and there was already blood everywhere and at this point everyone was the bad guy and god, why was Vaan even doing this?

He was just as much a killer as Samuel, he realized, as he sliced open the arm of a rather furious Agent. The Agent turned around and grabbed Vaan by the neck with his large meaty hands and threw him on the ground.

Vaan hit the ground and the wind was knocked out of him. It was hard to get up and his ribs really hurt. When the air filled his lungs back up he staggered as he stood and tried to breathe again. “You don’t have to be so rude,” He said, way too out of breath to talk decently.

He held out his hand and a flame burst forth, sending the Agent stumbling backwards, clutching his face and wailing in pain. Then Vaan took a few steps for and with both hands, swung his sword and cut open the Agents chest. He decided to walk away and just him bleed out.

It was difficult, coping with the fact that someone died under your hand, Vaan thought as he continued to hack and cut away his enemies. It was exhausting. There was so much stress and weight on his shoulders from it all.

Because these people could’ve been good men and women. A part of a family, with kids and a pet dog that greeted them everytime they came home. They might’ve worked ordinary jobs and lived exceptionally happy lives. But then they got kidnapped or recruited, or they had prejudices against the Gifteds for whatever reason and chose to hate us. They chose to give up their own lives, to destroy someone else.

Or they were very much so forced in it.

And that hurt, thinking about it. Vaan stopped to look around at all the teenagers killing or being killed. And it hit them that they were all brainwashed Agents. Just of a different sort.

And it also hit him that they could easily become just as corrupted as the humans. In fact, they probably already are.

They so were. They were corrupt, every last being on that field. Fighting to the death. Was there no shred of respect for anyone besides themselves?

Suddenly this felt very wrong, very, very wrong.

Vaan dropped his sword and staggered backwards, letting the whole scene sink in. There were already so many bodies, so much blood. Oh god, please, stop. He could feel himself crying but it wasn’t like he was really apart of himself anymore. He couldn’t breathe right anymore. Why, why was this happening?

Everywhere around him they were all just mindlessly fighting and killing people that might have once been very close to them. They could’ve been cousins or even friends. But everyone was trying to prove themselves right.

No, Vaan, stop it, he thought. He slapped his own cheek, trying to wake himself up. Get a hold of yourself. You are allowed to fight for what you want and that is exactly what you are doing. He huffed out a sigh and race forward, flames dancing from the tips of his fingers and burning every Agent he ran passed.

Where was Samuel? Vaan needed to know. It had to end, right then and there. He couldn’t stand the anticipation, he had to find Samuel.

The immortal was nowhere in sight. Of course, Vaan thought. What a cowardly man.

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