"The window." He instructed calmly.
Nagant eyed a window at the end of the hall. It led to a straight drop, thirty stories of nothing but air.
Another crash of concrete and glass blew air all around them. Dust coated her mysterious ally, showing him reach over his shoulder and pulling free a small contraption. Before she knew it, it extended in his hand into the shape of a rifle; a hulking tool of destruction he aimed and fired.
The glass erupted in a shower of glimmering rain, allowing air to flow through the floor and billow through a cold sweat Nagant felt on her scalp.
Without a second more of hesitation, she turned heel and ran, narrowly avoiding a clash of metal, of sword and steel.
Nearing the end, she primed her legs and jumped. She wouldn't make the gap to the next building, nor was she sure she could survive such a fall. But following the mysterious figure's advice had gotten her this far.
As if her thoughts were being read, she felt the cold assurance of metal on her stomach, a palm gripping her shirt and an arm curled around her.
The stranger tucked her under his armpit. Falling, his cloak remained but failed to hide the loud whir, a shrilling whine coming from his flank.
His wings shot out and dual engines sparked to life, lifting them high and then low. Smaller thrusters at the back of his shins stabilized them, allowing them to swoop low and into an alley way.
The figure kicked his legs forward and cut his speed, bringing them to a smooth stop. He ran along pavement before setting her down and de-cloaking.
"Are you well?" He asked, his mouth grille making his voice a digital growl.
"Well??" Nagant steadied herself and looked up at her mysterious alley. She noted the ravens painted over his shin and his helmet resembling a beak or medieval knight's helm.
The dark armor he dawned clearly wasn't just for show, neither were the wings furling behind him. He was trained and armed. And it was without a shadow of a doubt the same figure she saw almost ten years ago.
"Yes." She breathed a sigh of relief with a pang of regret. "The file, though..."
"We have to go." He says, his demeanor matching his relaxed, focused response. The file wasn't important, leaving was.
"Wha—?" Nagant stopped, regained her train of thought, and nodded. "Where to?"
"The metro." He said. "That should lead us to—"
His head suddenly rose and he was still, listening like a predator honing in on its prey.
"They found us." He said, drawing the same contraption from over his shoulder. With a mental command, it sprung up, extending a colossal rifle barrel and locking a butt stock into place. He flicked a switch near its trigger, bringing an electrical whine from the rifle before it clicked.
"Where?" Nagant's eyes narrowed and her arm clicked open, priming with a lock of hair.
"Here." He aimed down the long alleyway and waited. Nagant did the same, steadying her aim with a deep breath despite her heart hammering in her chest.
A great mass of flesh came thundering down, missing its mark and bouncing off the rooftop then the adjacent building. It came down like a meteor, an extraterrestrial lump of metal and sickly purple flesh.
The beast rose from its reckless landing; bones clicking as it leaned, hunched from a broken spine before it corrected itself with a low snarl.
The armored man fired, dispersing dust, lighting the alleyway in a massive flash of gas and fire.
Already the beast moved, running on all fours as the 75. caliber round pierced hardened steel and flesh like a hot knife through butter. Shortly after, the round exploded, snapping its spine in a fiery detonation. Even then, it clawed at the ground, drooling blood with crazed, beady eyes.
Nagant fired next, cracking its skull wide open, ending its ruthless pursuit. Nagant finally inhaled then.
The stranger's head rose once again and Nagant reloaded. She grunted, being taken under his arm once again, avoiding another falling beast like it was used as ammunition.
"Go." He told her. When she looked his way, he melted into the environment, his stance steady as he waited.
She turned on a dime and ran; only one thing was on her mind: The metro.
The strangers rifle cracked like a whip and stretched across the sky in a thunderous boom. Civilians turned her way, scared, terrified. They lined the streets and were frozen in place, processing the sound and the screech that followed shortly after.
Words were at the back of her throat, kept at bay by a sharp inhale and her mind shifting gears.
The ground shook again. Once, twice it rumbled along the pavement, sending a shock up her legs and prickling her back with goosebumps.
On the far side of the street she caught a glimpse of movement. She eyed her reflection in the window and the brawl ensuing behind her.
She ducked and rolled aside, narrowly dodging a hunk of flying flesh. The dense bundle of muscle crashed into a vacant car, nearly ripping it in half.
Nagant's eyes narrowed, focusing on the bit of flying debris to identify it. It was an arm, an entire limb ending just at the beginning of a shoulder.
The beast screeched in pain and a gust of wind met her. All within a few beats of her heart she accessed the situation, saw the coming danger, and turned back to fire.
The beastly duo clawed at nothing but air, seemingly rabid-like or desperate or kill their unseen prey.
Before one could take another swipe, her hair pierced its skull, burrowing into bones, muscle, and sinew before suddenly erupting out its side in a spray of dark blood.
The other monster swept its claws in a wide arc, meeting the same end as its other arm with it being flung across the alleyway. Before it could even register the lost of familial weight, the stranger swiped out. From her view, Nagant watched the monster lose an arm, its lower half, then head before falling dead.
A powerful jet of wind erupted beneath him before he took flight. He lunged across the way, taking her in his arm and making a swift escape.
"One more." He told her and she readied herself.
He whirled around in a smooth semi-circle, showing her the civilians down below becoming dark dots while the final beast raced along the rooftops, closing it at blinding speeds.
Taking aim, Nagant waited. The wind howled in her ears and whipped through her hair. By normal means it would've been an impossible shot, but she bided her time, waiting for the moment the beast skirted along the edge and crumpled concrete beneath its feet at it pounced.
She fired and her bullet met its mark, entering it putrid maw and exit out the back of its head with a gory display of blood and bone.
The stranger had a confidence to him. It wasn't so much as knowing he was better than his enemy, it was confidence in himself.
He carried himself with an air of authority and silence. From his walk alone Nagant could see that he was human, a man of experience.
He didn't seem concerned when they entered a pitch dark room, nor was he fazed from what had happened just moments ago.
"What was all of that back there?" She asked, her voice in a whisper. "Those things, that villain."
"All for One's forces." He replied. "They're growing desperate."
"And where are we?" She asked next, digesting his last response.
"A construction sight. The company halted their operations when a major shareholder died and their stocks crashed."
His quick and nonchalant responses made Nagant a little uneasy. And if she had to bet, he would be the one responsible for that shareholder's death.
"Are there no lights." Nagant asked again. She felt around in the dark, making her advance slower and slower.
"Apologies." He came back with. Suddenly, the lights were flicked on, revealing the wide and expansive space they were in. By the looks of things, the construction company was in the middle of excavations, expanding a building down rather than up before stopping and leaving.
"And All for One?" She sighed. "You could've at least let me know what I was gettin myself into."
"You were targeted for your quirk." He said.
"My quirk??" Again, his short and quick responses made her skin crawl. She wondered if it was even a man underneath all the armor.
"You can read the rest here." He said, leading her into a storage container. Inside was a stark difference than what was outside.
She immediately eyed a piled of boxes, all wooden and unmarked. Her nose told her it was ammunition for the goliath of a rifle he used.
The makeshift shelter had the same distinct feeling to it. Everything was neatly placed. His bed was large and crisp, a board littered with pictures and connected pieces of string was somehow well-made, and even his cans or packages of food were lined up to perfection.
Nagant came to the board and let her eyes glaze over it, taking in every face or name on it. Right now at least half of the faces and names were crossed off, and either their connected operation or known location had been reduced to rubble or ash.
"You did all of this." She whispered in a mixture of awe and disbelief.
He was still, his expression and mannerisms unreadable as he looked over his work as well.
Nagant notes each face, each belonging to heroes, registered villains, and free or incarcerated criminals. It wasn't a board of investigations, it was a highly detailed and thorough to-do list.
"The file." He said, referring to the manila folder beside her. "It has everything. Evidence, answers."
Nagant took the folder and flipped it open. Inside was a sort of report, like a detailed recount you would send to your boss or higher ups.
He was silent, seemingly resigning himself from the conversation when he took his rifle and set it down on a workbench. While he got to work cleaning and rearming, she got to reading.
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-Author's Notes-
It's refreshing to write two grizzled, experienced characters together. There's no need for conversation, and when there's questions there's straight-to-the-point answers. Nagant didn't panic, she followed his lead and he trusted her aim and independence.
For those of you wondering, this character is based off of Nykona Sharrowkyn, Ravengard legend. His lore entry is pretty short so check it out on the lexicanum. And if you're a reader from my other Warhammer story, he's pretty much the polar opposite to that character. No boasting, no ego, no theatrics. Just straight business.
