A Clan Of Misfits (TTEOTS x BTS)

Chapter 22 - On Edge

As time slowed, you reached into Three's blazer while crashing into him, bringing you both to the ground. Even before you had hit the floor, you had the tablet unfolded and shielding your heads. Your suitcases lay discarded at your feet, offering little coverage there. The bullets rained down on you in a fury of lead, plunging deep into the metal door with clunky pings. The machine guns were heavy and recoiled massively, shooting the bullets every which way and God sure must have loved you as you didn't feel a single one hit you. Finally, the small fracture of reload time came and you and Three dragged yourselves, and suitcases, clumsily through the opening door, clambering onto your feet and breaking into a sprint. Your augs died down and it took you a second to adjust to the quickening pace of time flow, causing you to stumble a bit and grasp on to Three's running form in front of you. He reached back and firmly clasped your hand in his, somehow managing to reassure you even with the shouting behind you. As you kept pushing forwards, Three initiated a call with the rest of the team, Falcon included. It rang. And rang.
"Come on, come on, come on!" You swerved around corners and up flights of stairs, closing every door you could behind you until the chase seemed to be over. Three yelped in glee when spotting a massive locked door labelled Air Dock. However, he skidded to a halt when gunfire was heard from within. His ICD crackled a second before connecting the call.
"Three?!"
"Eight... what's happening?"
"Dammit Three, Zero needed you! Now we're all fucked!"
"Shut it Four, Seven and I almost got-" A loud metallic shriek cut off the eldest's ranting and you turned to look behind you at the source of the noise. Lumbering towards you menacingly, scythe scarring the pristine floors, was Ten in all their terrifying glory. You gulped and swore you heard a small whimper coming from the man beside you.
"Almost what? Seven, are you okay?!" Zero's voice came through panicked.
"..."
"Seven- fuck- get off of me!" Three killed the call as Zero fought off his attacker and backed up to try and open the door. Your eyes never left the Feralis.
"Seven... You silly girl." Ten was glaring daggers straight into your soul. "You should have just left your teammate to die. That's how things work around here. You would have just been given another Five. Now look at the mess you made." Your fists clenched.
"I swear to God, if you knew about any of this I'm gonna-"
"Gonna what? Fight me? It would be my pleasure." Ten swept their scythe up off of the ground and held it sternly with both hands. "It's been too long since I've seen blood." Ten was awesomely tall with the raw body strength of a raging bull; this was not going to be easy. Not to mention their curved blade that could probably cut down a pine tree in one swift motion. Your suitcase sat behind you, combat gloves inside. There was definitely not enough time for you to put them on with Ten still advancing. Guess it'll just be regular fighting skills. Three seemed to be losing his patience with the door and you wondered what was going wrong. Just as Ten quickened their pace, raising their scythe above their head with intent to kill, Three kicked at the door with all of his pent-up anger. And yes, it opened.
"HOLY SHIT! SEVEN!" You felt a strong tug on your jacket and fell back inches from where the scythe landed, burrowing into the tiled floor. Snapping back to reality, you kicked Ten square on the chin and flipped over, grasping your case and chasing after a bewildered Three into the chaos-filled air dock.

Six and Four were looting weapons off of downed, possibly dead, SORT officers and had positioned themselves in front of the rest of the team. While they held back the attackers coming through the side entrance, Zero was clearly using all of his concentration on the main panel of the ship. His cyan eyes shone dangerously with pure focus. The ship was one of the largest PHASe had in it's possession; easily taking up half of the dock. Elsewhere, Five and Eight seemed to be trying to talk down a SORT member with their combined persuasion skills whilst Nine observed each member. You had no doubt he was running through every scenario and outcome in his mind and he would occasionally shout an order at someone. You and Three rushed towards the ship as Ten bounded into the dock, now fueled with rage. Four suddenly shot up from his position and, with a nod from Six, darted over.