All Rontu could see was the bright burst of orange flames before his entire body was flung backward. He slammed into a nearby buggy, a man-sized dent impacted in the steel hood. The wind was knocked out of him, Rontu doubling over and holding his ribs as he hacked up a lung. Bits and pieces of his armor had been blown off, gray plating now scattered across the area.

Serratia had been quicker to dodge. As she leaped back, the blast sent her flying in the other direction, her body twisting in the air as she tried to orient herself. One of her harpoons launched towards the ground, impaling into the dirt and jerking her body to a stop. She careened into a nearby tent and quickly found herself rolling through the dirt. It only took her a moment to get back to her feet and break into a full sprint back towards the blast site.

A roaring fire had replaced the crate, the metal container now twisted and torn apart by the force of the explosion. Serratia skidded to a halt onto her knees as she began furiously tearing the molten wreckage apart. She ignored the burning blaze around her as she shoved aside a flaming panel, letting out a pained sigh as she found Cara’s charred arm. She let the panel drop back down with a loud crash as she sat back, cradling her head in her hands as she rocked back and forth.

Rontu had managed to pull himself from the wreckage, doing his best to run towards her. A faint emerald glow could be seen shining through his damaged armor, hairline cracks of green speckled across his smooth visage. He slowed to a light trot as he passed the ruptured remains of the Honno, the creature’s entire lower body having been blown away. Bits of burnt viscera spilled from the gaping cavity left behind, some of them still burning and leaving a foul stench throughout the air.

Maniacal laughter broke into the chaos left behind, the perpetrator still standing where he had been before. Wall tossed the now useless remote into the dust, throwing his head back as he howled. For him, it had been a perfect opportunity. The Honno was clearly blasted to pieces, and both Shutok seemed worse for wear.

A loud crash snapped him out of his trance, the man turning to look behind him at the sound of his vehicle being crushed. He only had time to let out one last chuckle.

Sheeenk!

Rontu flinched as Wall’s lifeless body was impaled into the ground, another feathered Honno unfurling its wings before shooting off into the sky in search of more prey. He hastened his advance, calling out to the broken woman before him.

“Hey! We’ve gotta go!” he shouted at her, remaining vigilant as he looked around. Who knew how many more of those things were sneaking around.

Serratia didn’t answer him, her knees now brought up to her chest as she dragged her claws down the side of her helmet.

“Did you hear me?! We’re leaving! Now!” Rontu called out again, reaching forward and grabbing her by the shoulder to try and shake her from her shock. The moment his hand made contact a slew of saws and knives erupted from Serratia’s body, Rontu barely recovering in time to save his fingers.

“Come on!”

“Do what you want,” she muttered in a low voice, her body bristling with numerous edges and skewers that seemed to melt and reappear at various points.

Rontu paused, withdrawing his hand as he looked at the broken shell of a person. Two more of those shrill whistles could be heard in the distance, the camp now devolving into complete chaos as a third feathered Honno arrived to join the feast. He looked at Serratia one last time before he slowly turned his back to her and left her behind. No matter how badly he wanted to, he couldn’t help someone who had already given up.

He ran through the ruins of the camp as tents were set ablaze, gunshots and screams ringing in his ears. Rontu thought back to Lowlam and the terrible things that had happened there. What he could remember, at least. The fact that people in the Barrens were so comfortable with ravaging each other when looming horrors like the Honno were present sickened him.

A blur of feathers soared past him, a deep blue that almost matched the sky. The Honno landed on the railing of a tanker truck, opening its throat and firing off several rounds that ripped through several tents before stopping. Rontu didn’t want to look and see if it had actually hit anything, crouching low in the darkness. After a few seconds, the Honno kicked up a cloud of dust with its wings and flew off to hunt some more, overturning the tanker in the process with its talons.

Rontu ran up the side of the flipped truck, hopping down as he spied the Gemmer in the distance. The lights and engine were already on, Shen’s vigilant form standing atop the cab with his trademark sword now back in his possession. He spotted Rontu, jumping down gracefully and flinging open the side door as he neared.

“The others?” Shen asked quickly, following Rontu inside as the pair climbed the short steps.

Rontu shook his head as he stepped back into his familiar vehicle, unable to truly appreciate the homecoming in these circumstances. “They’re…there was…” he stammered, his hands shaking as they balled into fists. Now that he had a moment to breathe, the realization was worming its way into his mind.

Shen calmed him with a gentle nudge to the upper arm. “I see…” he said quietly before sinking onto one of the lower bunks. “I should have waited…I am so sorry…”

“It’s not your fault man,” Rontu urged, lifting a hand to quell Shen’s apology before walking past him.

Archie didn’t turn around from the driver’s seat, his eyes focused outside on the burning tents that littered the horizon. “So what are we doing, gentleman?”

Rontu slumped against one of the back walls, staring at his broken form in the small bathroom mirror. It only served to remind him how useless he was when it actually mattered. He traced the cracks under where his eyes were supposed to be, following the verdant glow until it disappeared under his cheek.

Sighing, he made his way to the cab, stopping to stare at his desk. His tools were still littered across the metallic finish, left completely untouched since the day they had been captured. His fingers lightly traced the handle of his trusty rock pick, a fond remembrance for the days he used to spend digging in the Glassway overwhelming him. Slowly they grasped around the handle and felt the many layers of tape wrapped around it.

“Rontu?” Archie called again, this time looking back at him.

The Shutok made his way back to the cab, joining Archie as he leaned forward and pointed to the east. “Take us through that way. I only saw one Honno on the way up here, and it left for the main part of camp a while ago.”

“You’re sure?” Archie asked him, scratching his cheek as he surveyed the other direction.

After a few silent seconds passed, Rontu finally stood up straight and tightly gripped the old rock pick in his hand.

“Yeah.”