Pack [Eddsworld]

PROLOGUE

A weak knock sounded on the closed office door.

Wishing to address his leader, there stood a man in a buttoned-up blue jacket, underneath which was a red turtleneck crossed with two sections of white. His ruffled hair was a dark russet colour, some of it flattered by bandages that wrapped around half of his face. A thin scar peeked out from underneath, going halfway down his mildly-tanned cheek.

"Who's there?" The voice from inside the room called out, a light accent to his tone.

He rolled his uninjured eye and lowered his intense eyebrows slightly in annoyance. "Paul. I have some intel you may want to hear."

There was a pause, followed by some rustling of paper- or perhaps magazines or some kind? "Uh, you may enter."

Paul clasped the door handle and pushed it down, entering the room. It wasn't particularly impressive for a leader, but their army didn't have much to live off after their leader's defeat. A single, flickering candle illuminated a small radius over the table, just barely casting a soft glow on the sofa behind it. Another male figure was sitting, hunched over with his chin resting on his interlocked fingers, on the very edge of the cushions, heavily shadowed and barely noticeable.

"Red Leader, I have some news." Paul paused for a reaction, and when he didn't receive one he continued in his monotonous voice, "We have ears in London, and they believe that the Burning Tygers gang have resurfaced and are planning to attack us while we're weak. Patryk and myself have been talking and-"

"I heard my name," Patryk, a man of similar build and age to Paul, peeked in the doorway. "What's going on?"

"He's telling me about the Burning Tygers and what you two have been working on." The leader spoke up, straightening up slightly and leaning back on the sofa, submerging all but his eyes in darkness. "Do continue, Paul."

"Ah, uh, yes." He looked a little flustered, as if he had lost the flow of his speech, glancing over his shoulder to steal a stealthy look at his partner in crime. "The Burning Tygers... Yes. Right, we've been assessing the dangerous situation, and we've concluded that we don't have enough evidence yet to validate our retaliation."

"And you decided to tell me this, because...?" The eyes narrowed slightly, his Norwegian accent becoming more pronounced as his annoyance grew.

Patryk trotted in without permission, standing next to Paul and smiling lightly. "We think it'd be cool if you went back to England yourself to check it all out."

"Well, it's a bit more complicated than that... you'd need a bodyguard with you at all times to make sure you're not targeted, and the plan requires you going undercover when you're in public and you'd need to find a secure place to stay without arousing suspicion--" Paul's words were silenced as Red Leader leaned forwards again, bringing his profile into light.

He looked quite young: possibly only in his twenties. The right half of his face was torn up with pale red burn scars, bringing the corner of his mouth into a semi-permanent scowl and making any movement of the right eye slightly painful. His skin was fairly pale and his ochre hair was styled into two curved points at the front, bearing a faint resemblance to horns.

"Are you certain this plan will be successful?" He asked gently, all intimidation gone and replaced with an unquenchable, almost child-like hope.

Paul let his lips curve up in a sweet smile, stepping around the messy desk and sitting down next to his leader. He put an arm over the young man's shoulders, drawing him into a side-hug that wasn't resisted. After noticing his partner raising his large eyebrows at him, Patryk let out an audible 'oh!' before hurrying over to sit on the boy's other side.

"You'll be fine, Tord. Trust me." Paul squeezed him comfortingly, feeling Red Leader's soft hair brush against his cheek with every movement.

"And if you ever feel like you don't want to be there anymore, just call us up and we'll be right there to pick you up and take you home." Patryk added, scooting a little closer and patting Tord's shoulder sweetly.

"Thank you..." He mumbled into Paul's jacket, the sound muffled but just about discernable.

"It's no problem, Tord. Getting out of the base will do you some good: I'm sure of it." The older man rubbed his leader's back, but he pulled away and sat upright again, blinking rapidly and biting his lower lip as if he was trying not to cry.

"O-okay." His voice shook, and he fought to regain control of his emotions. "Who will be my bodyguard? An experienced soldier, I presume?"

"Actually, she's a new recruit. Her father served for a long time in the Red Army before he became missing in action. She seems to have the same fire as him inside her heart." Patryk explained smoothly, resting one hand on his knee and using his other to beckon to the doorway.

A figure emerged from the shadows on the other side of the door. She had ginger hair and soft blue eyes; that coupled with her rounded face shape and faint eyebrows made her look completely innocent. However, her lips were drawn in a straight line and her eyes were slightly narrowed. The uniform she wore didn't seem quite big enough and thus hugged her curvy body uncomfortably, the top two buttons on her blue jacket undone to ease the pressure. Black trousers were tight around her legs, giving a faint impression of serious muscles hidden underneath.

Tord sat up straighter, eyes unintentionally wandering to her impressive bust. "What's your name, soldier?"

"Ylva, sir. Ylva Eir Oydis." Her Norwegian tone was fairly deep, and if she wanted to she could easily seduce many men.

"Ah, Oydis. Your father was a good man, soldier. He served us well and did us proud. I sure hope you'll do the same." Red Leader nodded at her, standing up and edging around the table to stand in front of her.

He held out his right hand, the robotic systems whirring faintly inside his red arm. She glanced down at it momentarily before extending her own gloved hand to shake it.

"It will be great working with you, sir. I'm honoured you chose me for the task." Ylva kept his steely gaze without flinching or cowering away in fear: she seemed indestructible.

"Likewise, soldier." Tord dipped his head slightly at her, dropping his hand back to his side. "Head back to your dorm and get some sleep. We leave first thing tomorrow morning."

She nodded stiffly in response to his order, turning on the high heel of her black boots and striding away. The doors closed behind her, leaving the three men alone in the office.

"A birth defect meant her arms had to be amputated when she was born. They weren't sure she was going to survive because she was three weeks premature and incredibly frail, but she fought her way through it all." Paul murmured without looking away from the door. "Having grown up in a household with six brothers and a high-achieving father, she's always pressured herself into becoming better and better. Her father loved her dearly and spent a huge sum of money to buy her new arms. She trained intensely for years, pushing past her limits when others would've given up."

"We figured she'd be a good partner for you." Patryk locked eyes with Tord, who was still standing beyond his desk. "You both know what that's like."

"Y-yes, I suppose so." Red Leader turned his back on them again, squeezing his eyes shut. "Well, you two ought to be off too. I have some work that needs attending to."

Paul and Patryk exchanged sideways looks before standing up in unison. They both left with a faint 'night, Tord', leaving him in silence and solitude once again.

He reopened his glistening eyes and blinked down at his robotic arm, the blue light glowing softly against the darkness. A traitorous tear slipped down his cheek as he clenched his hand into a fist, although the corners of his lips twitched up into a smile.

Thank you so much.

~

I'm so excited for this new adventure!

I hope you enjoyed (: