Shadow Requiem

~~Follow Armarok~~

The train just sat there, gutted with rust, long abandoned. Nobody bothered with it anymore. Who would?

Then some filthy guy wandered in, clutching a Double Eagle gun in one hand and a knife in the other. He didn’t even get his lids all the way open. A fist big as a sledgehammer slammed out of nowhere and flattened him before his brain caught up. Fast. He felt nothing. Just one blow, savage enough to snuff out his life and splash the train’s steel with a hot red spray. His skull folded in, like someone drove a cannonball through it.

And then, silence. His body was done. That was it. Over in a blink, ugly and final.

“Terrorist trash.”

Nobody said a thing. Didn’t have to; the grins said it all.

“Huagdoh,” the General’s voice scratched out, thick and unhurried. “Find the code. It’s probably no longer here.” His jaw clenched, teeth grinding as his sharp, cold gaze swept the wreckage. He didn’t bother to explain. Already moving, his boots struck out a warning in steady beats on the hard ground. “Do what you want with the rest.”

“God, I thought you’d never say it. Took far too damn long for that to come out.“—Huagdoh’s grin stretched wide across his round cheeks. He’d been craving this, plain as day. “Finally let me off the leash.”

“I said do it, Huagdoh. Don’t make me repeat myself,” the General threw over his shoulder, not even looking back. “That’s an order.”

Huagdoh just smiled, easy as breathing.

“Keep it clean, Huagdoh,” Aluman said, sounding bored.

“Back off,” Huagdoh growled.

Amigbah called out, “I’m counting on you, Huagdoh.”

“Just leave it to him,” Gorrote added.

They all grinned, as if this was just routine, seen a hundred times and hardly worth the trouble. Heldrick said nothing, while the others moved with an edge, each step humming with old violence.

“Are you all underestimating me?” Huagdoh’s eyes narrowed, a sick twist crawling into his gut. He almost barked it out.

“Oh, come on,” Amigbah clapped him on the back. “Give it your best, Huagdoh. Stop acting like it’s drama.” He grinned. No one else ever got that close to Huagdoh.

“Don’t treat me like a kid, Amigbah. You’ve got zero tact,” Huagdoh answered, walking off.

“Oi, oi! That’s how you talk to your elders?”

Killer, sharp as ever, just had to add, “Kids cry. That’s just what they do.”

And that did it. Huagdoh spun and grabbed Killer by the shoulder, his fingers biting down into the red-trimmed uniform as veins popped along his arm. He squeezed hard.

“Try me, Killer.”

Energy surged out of him, shaking the dirt and making the nearby cars shudder. Huagdoh burned with rage, every muscle drawn tight, eyes locked and seething. Killer didn’t even blink. He hit that pressure back, his own murderous intent boiling over in a glare dark as a brewing storm. The two forces churned, neither side giving, a clash thick with a kind of violence that made something in your spine want to break for cover.

“Hey! Is this how Death Squad members act?” Gorrote broke in, his voice cutting through the heat. “Knock it off. The General isn’t here so we can measure dicks. You know why we’re here: it’s for all or nothing. For the country.”

“Like kids,” Aluman muttered.

“Doesn’t matter where you crawled from—order or chaos, dirt or dignity,” Gorrote’s voice dropped, all grit and authority. “Duty’s still yours. Don’t forget why you put that uniform on.”

“Huagdoh, enough,” Amigbah said. This time, there was no joke in his voice.

“I’m out before I actually lose it and pummel one of you,” Heldrick said, heading out. He’d wasted enough breath here. His eyes said the rest.

Killer just grunted. “Dial that fart of yours back, or you’ll bring down the fortress whole,” he said, dry as old brick. “You’re just hungry, Huagdoh.” He waved him off. “Anyway, the job’s yours. We’ll catch up.”

“Go on, then. And chain yourself up next time you botch it. You know what the General’s like when you get mouthy.”

“Tch,” Huagdoh clicked his tongue.

One by one, the others left. Huagdoh’s glare followed Killer’s back long after the rest had cleared off. Amigbah was last, giving Huagdoh a solid pat before stepping out. Huagdoh shot him only a brief nod. Soon, Amigbah vanished too, quiet as he’d come.

It took real effort for Huagdoh to settle the riot under his skin; if it hadn’t clicked back to calm right then, fists would have already been flying. It was the first time he’d ever reached a breaking point like that. All because of that fight, still raw from the blowup in the middle of that last hell mission just a month back. That’s where it started.

Huagdoh moved.

He jumped, just one brutal leap onto the burning hulk of the train. Metal screamed under his boots, nearly folding beneath him. He landed on the roof, no sweat, no hesitation, like gravity didn’t quite apply to him. He drew in a breath so deep it seemed to take the air, ash, and dirt with it, his chest swelling tight.

He didn’t wait. He blasted off again in a huge, crushing jump, smashing a chunk of the old train underfoot like it was an empty can. A second later, he hung from an elevator track buried in the wall, way up—maybe hundreds of meters above.

And then Huagdoh started to climb.