The Atlantian System: Creation

Leta and Hayato barely entered the empty cubicle space when the building violently shook, causing electronics to fall in the radio room.

As they approached the stairs leading down to the second floor, a loud, grating noise like a cinder block scrapping over a wooden floor reverberated from the shadowy depths. Leta was able to feel it vibrating up through her legs, similar to the sensation of standing too close to a helicopter about to take off.

Hayato turned to her and whispered as quietly as possible. “Keep a safe distance from me. You must remain hidden in case I am spotted.”

He activated his ghost ability at her nod and began descending the stairs, his matte black weapons ready.

Leta waited until the barely-there-outline of his form had vanished into the shadows below before quietly tip-toeing her way down.

The second floor appeared pitch black in contrast to the third floor, which had sparsely covered windows that allowed some light to enter. Every window had been covered with tinfoil and blankets, and all the emergency lights had been removed.

The impressions she sensed but couldn’t visually perceive transformed into walls, doors, and other objects left behind.

Strangely enough, her impression of Hayato had become more noticeable in the blackness of the second floor. Leta suspected it to be a component of his Assassin class profile, as he create his teleportation gates soley in shadows, not in the absence of light.

Despite this slight handicap, Hayato’s footsteps maintained an eerie silence as he carefully observed the area like a true harbinger of death.

The floor primarily served as a space for cubicles and the mundane activities of office life, yet the odor of decaying earthiness and the strong tang of sweat and mildew had overwhelmed the room.

Occupying one corner stood a mound of cardboard boxes and other packaging material, crumpled and flattened under the weight of something pressing against them. Leta suspected a connection between the crimson-brown splatters on the paper nest and the bone shards scattered about, rather than attributing it to a packaging mishap.

The building shook again as whatever lay below gave another grating bellow, followed by a yip that Leta recognized as belonging to Bonnie.

“Ugh,” something vaguely human groaned out of a conference room across the expanse from the nest. She had difficulty pinpointing the exact origin of the speakers distinctly Baltic accent.

Leta saw Hayato move and hide in a nearby hallway while Leta shot into a janitor’s closet and took cover behind the door.

“Damn ogres,” murmured the voice quietly before erupting, “Just devour whatever it is and get it over with!””

Another grinding trill emanated from the other monster’s response, causing a corner of the material covering the window to loosen. This allowed a coin-sized shaft of light to shine into the room, prompting the other occupant to growl from its chambers.

“Stick me in this backward hole with the flying rats and a boulder with legs.” The speaker grumbled with displeasure as they heard fabric shuffling just before light footsteps trotted through the room. The door to the conference room creaked out.

Leta’s vision was hindered by the narrow gap between the door and the frame, yet she managed to discern the cascade of silver hair, glistening golden eyes reflecting like those of a cat in the solitary beam of light, and skin tinged with a purplish-blue shade reminiscent of a bruise.

As it opened the door, the Drow hissed at the tiny sliver of light, its handsome fast twisting into a vicious scowl.

“Fucking great.” Then it sighed as if it were a toddler being asked to complete a task it didn’t want to do as it scooted around the beam of light. “Fine. I’ll get it.”

Footsteps approached her position, fading slightly as the Drow moved past her hiding spot. Leta could feel her heart pounding so hard in her ears that she was certain the Drow’s pointed ears would have detected it.

Shortly after, Leta spotted a sunbeam flicker. Hayato trailed behind, mirroring the Drow’s movements as he closed in for the attack.

The Drow whirled around, one arm raised to block Hayato’s attack with a long hunting knife. It twirled the attack away and sent the Assassin stumbling back.

“Oh,” The Drow purred, its smile full of sharp fangs, “Is it my birthday? How fun.”

The subsequent scene resembled something straight out of a martial arts movie. Hayato and the Drow showcased their impressive fighting abilities, executing precise knife jabs and skillfully evading each other’s strikes. The spectacle unfolded, resembling a clash between two vipers filled with unnatural speed and venom, as they fought for supremacy.

“I’m guessing you killed those flying rats, eh?” The Drow’s grin was full of madness as it ducked under Hayato’s stab to try to slash upwards. Hayato parried with his other knife and used his opponent’s moment to twist the blade away.

“Then downstairs must be your friends? How exciting.” The Drow kicked out and hooked one of Hayato’s legs, making him lose balance. He caught himself and blocked the Drow’s downward stab when the blade was only inches away from his face.

“And they sent you up here to kill little ole’ me?”

Hayato got his feet underneath him and kicked the Drow off before flipping into an attack crouch.

His opponent laughed as if enjoying himself, brandishing his knives in a twirl before their blades met again.

Hayato displayed enough speed to knock the strike aimed at his ribs out of the air.

The Assassin didn’t flinch as he grabbed the offending arm and pulled. The Drow’s eyes widened in surprise as Hayato flipped it over and threw it with all his might.

The Drow was nimble and twisted its body around midair to land in a roll, but the only available path it could take put it directly into the tiny sunbeam.

The Drow’s skin touched the light, releasing a scent of burning hair and flesh. The room filled with the agonizing sound of its pain filled shriek.

It tumbled out of harm’s way before crouching to glare at Hayato. The face on one side exhibited a reddened and blistered appearance, with the skin on its cheek shedding to uncover sharp white molars as a bundle of formerly attractive hair descended to the ground.

Leta watched its tongue poke at its wounded face from inside its mouth.

“That,” The Drow growled, “was uncalled for.”

Hayato did not respond to the Drow’s words but tilted his head curiously before gesturing with his knife for his opponent to come to him.

The Drow sneered, its ruined cheek twisting in a nightmarish curl as it darted forward.

Like flipping a switch, the Drow suddenly started launching swifter and more savage assaults, as though it had been playing a game previously, but now it was filled with anger.

Hayato noticed the change, adjusting his technique to combat the flurry of attacks.

The Drow acted as a wild animal, tracking its prey with knives, fangs, and claws, taking advantage of every opportunity to inflict harm.

After trading blows, it hooked its knife into Hayato’s collarbone, stabbing between his armor plates to dig deep into the bone.

Hayato grunted in pain, the first sound he’d unintentionally made during the entire fight.

Pushed down to one knee, he struggled to use his other hand to keep the Drow from stabbing him with the other knife.

Drow cackled as if sensing a swift victory, yellow eyes wide with madness as it tore its cheek wound further open with its laughter.

“Oh, screw it,” Leta muttered to herself before grabbing the crossbow at her spine and throwing the door open.

The Drow’s head shot up as she pulled the trigger, the bolt landing with a meaty thud below its clavicle. It had no choice but to disengage with Hayato, to avoid being hit by her next arrow.

Hayato, who flipped backward and out of the Drow’s range, gave her one look to confirm her well-being before taking a defensive stance.