The World Is Mine For The Taking

The moment Ignis stepped into the chaos, it was like death itself had descended.

Her blade danced with an almost otherworldly grace, slicing through the air, tearing through flesh and bone alike.

Soldiers were cut down in an instant, their bodies collapsing before they even realized what had happened.

Arterial sprays painted the dirt crimson, limbs flew, and heads rolled, her assault was merciless and unstoppable.

They didn't stand a chance.

One after another, the soldiers were carved up like paper dolls.

Each stroke of her weapon was fluid, brutal, and efficient. It was surgical in precision, yet monstrous in power. They dropped like flies, swatted by a storm too fast to see and too sharp to avoid.

Panic set in.

Some tried to surround her. Others shouted, attempting to regroup, to form a plan or anything. But it was all in vain.

And then... came the desperation.

A few soldiers, driven mad by the hopelessness of the situation, made a final, horrifying decision. With trembling hands, they reached into their vests, pulled out explosive devices, and clutched them tightly against their chests. Without hesitation, they screamed and lunged toward her, intending to take her with them in death.

Human bombs. Willing sacrifices.

But Ignis didn't even blink.

She met them head-on, face twisted into a cold, focused fury. With a grunt, she slammed her palm into the first one's chest, driving him back. Her blade plunged into his stomach again and again, the wet crunch of steel piercing muscle and guts echoing in the air. Blood splattered across her face, but she didn't stop.

She reached into his shredded abdomen, tore the explosives free with her bare hands, and shoved them right back inside his mutilated torso.

Then, with terrifying strength, she hurled him skyward.

The body exploded mid-air in a fiery burst. The sound was deafening—BOOM!—followed by a thick, meaty squelch. Blood misted the battlefield like red rain, falling over everything.

Ignis stood still, blood dripping down her face, her shoulders and her sword.

She looked like a monster.

A beautiful, deadly, unstoppable monster bathed in gore.

The surviving soldiers stared at her, their expressions hollow and their courage shattered. No one dared to take another step forward.

One of them fumbled at his side, pulling out what looked like a communication device, probably their version of a smartphone, trembling hands trying to call for backup.

But before he could even lift it—

THUNK!

A sword flew through the air like a bullet, pinning the device into the ground. Sparks crackled from the shattered screen as it lay still.

"Eeekkk!"

The man let out a pathetic squeal and bolted.

That was all it took.

The rest of them turned and ran. Every last one of them. Some screamed, others dropped their weapons, no one looked back.

Silence fell.

Only the sound of dripping blood and faint crackles from the still-burning ruins remained.

Then Ignis turned to face me.

Her crimson-streaked hair clung to her skin. Her eyes locked onto mine.

"Thank goodness I made it in time," she said, her voice calm despite the carnage she'd just unleashed. She extended a hand toward me. "Here."

I stared at her hand for a moment before I reached out and took it.

My own hands were shaking. My entire body was covered in dirt, grime, blood with some of it mine, most of it not. My clothes clung to me, soaked and heavy. I felt like I was being weighed down by more than just the blood and sweat.

"There's no way they aren't going to come back," she continued, her tone flat and cold. "Which is why we need to get going."

"Wait. Go where?" I asked, still catching my breath.

"To safety," she said simply.

I clenched my jaw. "There are survivors here. We can't just leave them behind."

Ignis sighed, brushing strands of sticky, blood-drenched hair from her face. "No one's going to retake the Principality. It's already been abandoned by the rest of the world. At this point, the Empire might be the only one powerful enough to even challenge the force that invaded, but even then… I doubt they'd try to take it back on their own. They won't risk all their resources on a war with uncertain outcomes. Even if they win, they'd suffer massive losses. That would cripple their plans of world conquest and set them back years in preparation. That's why…" She looked me dead in the eye. "We can't afford to play savior when we can't even save ourselves."

I stared at her, disgusted. "You're seriously telling me to abandon them?"

"You're not obligated to stay," she said coldly. "And you shouldn't feel guilty for abandoning people you have no duty to save. One day, you'll understand that sacrificing others to survive is sometimes the only option."

"You've really become selfish, Ignis…"

I turned my back on her.

Without another word, I headed back to the pub where Arianne and the others had taken shelter.

She was there, waiting by the door.

"They're already coming," she said the moment she saw me.

"Good," I muttered. "All we can do now is wait… and hope the enemies don't return too quickly."

As I said that, something tugged gently at my coat.

I looked down.

A child. A little girl—no older than five or six—stood beside me. Her cheeks were hollow, her limbs thin and trembling. Her eyes were too big for her face, filled with something between fear and confusion. She didn't say a word.

She was so small, I hadn't even noticed her until that moment. I'd almost stepped on her.

I glanced around at the other survivors.

No one moved.

No one came to claim her.

No one stopped her from approaching me.

I didn't want to ask. I didn't want to know.

But…

I kneeled down, lowering myself to her eye level, and gently patted her head. Her hair was soft. Fluffy. Dirty, but warm.

Even kneeling, I was still taller than her.

She was tiny—too tiny. She probably hadn't eaten a proper meal in weeks. Maybe months. The corruption of the Principality had starved her of everything.

"…Where are your parents?" I asked quietly.

I already knew the answer. Asking her was cruel. Pointless. But I still needed to hear it from her.

She didn't speak. She just shook her head.

That was enough.

I didn't know if she meant they were dead… or if she never had any to begin with.

But one thing was clear.

I couldn't leave this little girl here to die.

***

I drifted off to sleep, the soft warmth of the child curled tightly against my body.

Her small hands clung to my shirt, and her breathing was calm and steady.

I didn't know why she had chosen to cling to me like this—why she seemed to feel safe in my arms—but I didn't question it. I didn't mind. Not even a little.

When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was Arianne. She was still standing by the entrance, her figure outlined against the pale light of early morning.

Her gaze was fixed outside with her expression a mask of tired focus. The sky beyond had shifted from inky black to a dull gray-blue. Morning had come.

We couldn't move. Not with this many people who were injured, frightened, and exhausted. Moving out now would be suicide. We had no cover, no resources, and nowhere to go. So we waited. Stayed where we were. It was also the only real chance the person we'd called for help had of spotting us. Out here, stationary we were visible. Exposed, yes, but findable.

Ignis was here too. Oddly enough, she hadn't left. She made her stance clear that she was staying because I was staying. And if things went to hell, she wouldn't think twice. She'd drag me out of here with force if she had to, even if it meant leaving the others behind. That was the kind of person she was, ruthless when necessary.

And me... I didn't know if I could live with that. The guilt of abandoning all these people just to save my own fucking skin... That kind of thing doesn't just fade with time.

It would destroy me.

"Leader!" Arianne's voice pierced the morning air. "Something's coming!"

My eyes snapped open. I carefully shifted the child off me, placing her gently on the makeshift bedding. Her body twitched slightly in her sleep, but she didn't wake. I stood and stretched, every inch of my body groaning in protest.

Muscles pulled tight, tendons stiff and screaming, pain blooming across my limbs like fire licking at dry wood. But I ignored it.

I had to.

"Eris…" Ignis said softly. Her voice was low and uncertain. I could feel her eyes on me, but I didn't meet them.

"How many, Arianne?" I asked, my voice rough with fatigue but steady.

There was a long pause. I heard her gulp.

Then... the sound began.

A low, mechanical hum which at first distant, like thunder on the horizon. But it grew louder with each passing second. This wasn't the sound of human footsteps.

It was machines.