Orcinus's One-Shots! *Whoo*

The Thief's Pillage

Green eyes scoured the war torn land as bullets rang in his ears. Sweat drenched his face as adrenaline coursed through his systems, urging him to move forward. This was a time of war, one that held no definite end. But, did any of them really?

With war came death, and with death came fear, and from fear came power. That's how it always worked for those too blind to try and make the better of it. However, there were the few people who did try, and the man standing in the restricted area was one of them.

Scrutinize was a wily young man who had recently hit the mark of adulthood. The time when one is allowed to leave their parent's homes and be free. Well, it would have been if Scrutinize hadn't already been stranded in this land for ten years.

The boy continued to watch the land as his eyes prowled the area. They narrowed as they caught the slight movement of something dressed in the familiar suit of one of the troopers. A smirk painted across his face as he flicked out his wrist, a blade falling from the sleeve and metallic bands wrapping around his arm, securing the blade in place. He repeated the same with the other arm and hunched close to the ground, like an animal that had laid sights on its prey. The heavy heat bore down upon his back as he licked his chapped lips in anticipation.

There were two things one should be wary about if they were ever to come across this man. Number one: don't look him in the eyes. Scrutinize didn't just get his name because he thought it sounded cool (even if it clearly didn't), but because he could see things no other could see. Counterfeits, distant projectiles, and moles from the other side were just a few of the many things he could do. And the second...

Scrutinize pounced, bounding down the muddy land as he focused on his target. Showering bullets, cries of pains, and the booming of cannons were drowned out as he neared the unsuspecting target. And when he was noticed-

Scrutinize struck, the blades first cutting along the enemy's back and with a quick spin cut off the soldier's oxygen supply. The man fell to the ground, his mouth agape as blood seeped from the wound. Scrutinize smirked as he retracted his weapons and dug into the pockets of the man, pulling out coins and jewelry and cash that were cherished possessions from the loved ones back at home.

The second: he's a thief. One that would do anything for an easy profit. Even if it meant murder.

After the thief had collected his spoil, he sprinted across the battlefield to one of the safe zones where he would stay until the battle passed on. And while he was down there, perhaps he could find just how much these treasures could offer to his benefit.

Falling into a slide, he glided against the mud into a dug out hole in the ground disguised by some carefully placed shrubbery. He settled down in the back of the den, drawing his knees to his chest as he held his prize to his heart as he listened to the echoing sounds of war above. He clutched to those treasures, as he would when he was younger. As if someone was going to come down that hole and pry them from his dirty, scarred hands. He smirked at the sounds and closed his eyes, the sounds of war echoing from above and shaking the tunnel with each boom of a cannon. With a quick prayer for his survival he looked up at the dirt ceiling and with a daring grin whispered, "Until the 'morrow."