Clear Out

(Pre-Judgment Era)

(2014)

"Battlefield Status," Blackshot whispered inside the confines of his enclosed helmet as he took cover behind a trash bin. Ahead was an abandoned playground; recreational equipment squeaking as the rusted joints moved in protest due to lack of lubrication. The night wind howled; moon shone bright in the middle of the dark sky, cloudless and depressing. The Protectorate could make six small figures occupying the playground. All of them were children, but in his eyes, dark flames surrounded their bodies. It emanated from the very core of their spirit; malevolent in origins.

"Tactical Awareness: Increased, Objective Status: Incomplete, Battlezone Combatants: Scanning..." A female voice replied to him.

"Make it quick."

Blackshot pulled both silver blades from his back. The reflection of the moonlight glistened from the blades as light reflected against it. He waited, taking deep breaths as he took frequent peeks over the trashbin. Adrenaline raced in his veins in anticipation. His armored hand gripped both hilts tight, clenching as anger slowly made its way towards his mind. His glowing eyes were filled with contempt and fury at the sight of the Demons in front of him.

"Hell's Forces: Children of the Dark Legion, House Karael, Flesh Metal Legion and The Fourth Swarm of Malice."

Digesting the information he heard, he disregarded the other useless data the AI in his suit relayed to him. He took another peek once more and observed the figures in the playground. From the distance, they all looked like normal Human children. Each one were displaying emotionless cold attitude that makes them stand out if they were to be mixed up with normal children. They wore casual outfit that helped them blend in with others but each were time bombs in their own rights. Once the order from the higher-ups were passed to them, the children would turn from loner to violent; vicious and ruthless in executing their missions. One would notice that their eyes would turn into midnight black, mouth spread thin into a disturbing grin.

He moved out of the trash bin, revealing himself yet his Praetorian Battle Gear provided stealth itself as the surface of his armor blended in with the surroundings. He approached and closed in on the nearest seven-year old and grabbed him. His armored hand muffling the boy as it struggled; inhuman growl can be heard. The other Demons were oblivious to what was happening to their comrade.

Blackshot pulled the squirming Demon in the darkness with him. He forced its head upward to expose the soft skin of its neck and pressed the sharp side of the blade at its neck. Blackshot placed then sawed with a quick motion. Blood squirted out of its wound with a spray; dark crimson blood sprawled across the pavement messily. Cursing himself for being careless, Blackshot repeated the action. He could see the severed throat of the Demon and hear the oxygen hissing out of it like a tire punctured with a hole. The Demon gave a short resistance before finally dying, head limply hanging to the side.

He dragged the body to the trash bin, blood trailed along the road. He admitted that he made a mess and the chance of him remaining in covert has lessened greatly. Looking up, he saw the remaining five Demons staring at him with a cocky grin.

"For a Protektovare, you are such an idiot." A Demon says with a German accent. It glanced at its fellow Demons and growled; its inhuman voice was somewhat a mix of wailing of a whale and a growl of a lion. At once, its subordinates charged at him.

"Ah great, I'm going loud this time." Blackshot says as he twirled both blades from his hands. There's no point in cloaking himself from his view. He deactivated the stealth capabilities of his armor with a thought, revealing a blood-soaked Blackshot.

Two Demon children charged at him with bloodied knives at hand. Blackshot parried the attack that came to his left then to his right. He shuffled his feet and retaliated with a forty-five degree kick at the Demon to his left. He whirled both his blades over his head as he spun in a clockwise motion, striking at the Demon to his right. The Demon let out a curse as it tripped off balance with an amputated right leg and a huge laceration to the chest. Blackshot twirled both blades once more as he inverted his grip and impaled the Demon, dead.

He sensed a stone flying to his direction. Immediately, he rolled to his right and slid one of the blades in his back. It let out a satisfying click, prompting Blackshot to charge at the other Demon. He executed a flying kick; the Demon let out a dying growl as the attack snapped its head backwards. It fell down in a heap as soon as death came over it. Ahead, the third Demon had launched itself at him. Blackshot took a step back as he raised his blade in a horizontal position, defending himself from the Demon and the sharp object it held in its hand; a screwdriver. They disengaged; the Demon charged again. Blackshot clenched his left fist, it crackled in response as sparks of electricity erupted around it. He launched it at the Demon, frying it to charred flesh and blackened skin as it made contact.

With a curse, the leader of the small squad jumped into the fray together with his subordinate. Both flashed a toothy grin as they charged, yelling blasphemous things. Blackshot moved with an enhanced speed as he charged at the nearest one; the leader. He launched a straight left punch that the Demon failed to evade. Its jaws were crushed upon contact; blood and teeth flew out of its mouth. Stunned, the Demon watched as Blackshot made a downward strike with his blade, aimed at its exposed neck. The attack had decapitated the Demon; the head rolled across the playground leaving dark crimson liquid. Blackshot inverted his grip on the blade again as he spun in a clockwise motion to the left, impaling the last one on the chest. He twisted it before muttering a short Latin Prayer. It twitched before burning and turned to ashes.

When he thought it was over, he was wrong. More Dark Children Legionnaires appeared in front of him. They were accompanied by Demons in black chainmail armors, all covered from head to toe. Blackshot recognized them as the Knights of House Karael. They serve the Karael Order and whoever Grand Master that leads it. He grinned as he charged the crowd, attacking the nearest Demon, a Knight.

He struck from above and just as expected, the Knight parried it horizontally. Blackshot kicked the Knight's right knee cap; a loud crack could be heard as the Knight fell to one side. Blackshot grabbed the sword and moved it out of the way as he impaled the Demon, pointed edge inserting itself in the eye slit visor of the Knight. Dark crimson blood sprayed everywhere once more as Blackshot seek for more enemies to kill. A Demon Child advances towards him recklessly. Blackshot launched an armored foot to its face, taking it down. He impaled its heart and twisted it before pulling it out. Sensing another Knight charging to his left, Blackshot faced its direction with his blade at the ready. He watched as the Knight raised its blade, ready to strike downwards. He raised his weapon in defense, blocking it horizontally. He stepped to the right as he cocked his hand back, then slammed the hilt of his sword at the left temple of the Knight. He launched a knee strike; the Knight fell off balance. Blackshot ended its life with a downward strike. Behind him, a Demon Child squealed as it charged. Something in its inhuman voice had irritated Blackshot but he shoved the thought aside and let the sound filtration system of his helmet silence it. He was a soldier, a professional one. He does not take things personally against his enemies. Or maybe he do? He swings the blade over his head as he spun anticlockwise, performed a lunging strike at the enemy. He lifted his blade and struck at the Demon's kneecap once more before twirling his sword and impaling its chest. A Knight charged to his right, yelling its Household's battlecry. He swung the sword over his head once more and spun anticlockwise. He struck at the spine of the enemy then spun in a clockwise motion again as he lacerated the enemy's chest with a horizontal strike. As the Knight fell backwards, Blackshot landed an armored boot on its face, crushing it like watermelon.

He glanced behind him and spotted a Demon Child making its advance towards him. He charged it and strikes at its left temple, but was parried by the enemy's blade. He aimed for the Demon's right knee, only to be blocked once more. He strikes horizontally but the result was still the same. The pattern of attack was repeated for once which forced Blackshot to change his attack. He moved his blade from the left and struck, executing a quick strike with a flick of his wrist. He swung the blade over his head in a counterclockwise rotation then impaled the Demon's chest.

A Knight recklessly launched itself against the Protectorate, hitting him in the back. The blade fell from Blackshot's hand, sliding out of reach. He glared at the Knight as it approached with a raised blade. He launched his right elbow, slamming its face. Balling his hands into a fists, he released a flurry of strikes; hands rotating circularly as blow after blow made contact on the Knight's body. Dents marked its chest as a result. He launched his right knee, sending it to the chest of his battered enemy. The Knight fell down, dead. A Dark Child Legionnaire marched across the battlefield with a huge metal pole in its hands. Blackshot prepared himself as he watched the enemy closes in. With a perfect timing, he wrapped his left arm around the pole and broke it with his right elbow. He grabbed the broken half under his left arm with his right hand and strikes at the right ankle of the enemy, tripping it off. He strikes at its face twice until its head was reduced to a pulp. Tossing the broken half of the pole aside, he ran and retrieved his fallen blade from the ground. He drew the other blade and twirled it downwards and upwards as he watched a Knight closing in. He advanced, swinging both his swords at its neck, scissoring it. He slashed its chest twice before impaling it with his blades. He launched a right pushing kick down its chest and watched the Demon loses its balance. Spinning clockwise, he greeted a Demon Child with his blades swinging over his head. The Demon Child was decapitated and was finished by a left pushing kick. He slid both blades to his back and turned behind him and saw a Knight marching towards him with a knife at hand. He grinned as he held the armed hand of the Knight, keeping the knife from stabbing him. He used his right foot to trip the enemy by sweeping its right ankle. Then using his right elbow, he pushed the enemy to the ground. He pressed his right knee against its chest hard to prevent it from escaping as he stabbed the Knight using its own knife which is still gripped tightly in its hand, twice. He pried the knife off from its cold dead fingers and hurled it at the advancing Demon Child behind him. He rolled towards the Demon, right hand reaching for its neck. His left free hand removed the knife from its chest and then re-inserted it in the soft flesh of its neck. He lifted the Demon and threw it at the surface of the slide near them. He grabbed one of his blade from his back and inverted his grip by twirling downwards. He stabbed its chest deeply, finally killing it.

Withdrawing his blade from the dead cadaver, he slid the sword to his back. A magnetic click replied in return. The night became peaceful as the chilling wind blew past by. For a moment, Blackshot felt guilty for the pleasure he gained from killing his enemies. He liked the view of spilt enemy blood on the soil. He bent to one of the corpses, dipping his hand in the puddled blood and wiped it all over his helmet's faceplate. He heaved a sigh as adrenaline slowly left him.

"Protectorate Blackshot, report in!" A voice called over the static on the comms. Blackshot lifted his left hand near the side of his helmet and pressed a button.

"Protectorate reporting in. What is it?"

"We detected a large formation of enemies approaching your position. Be advised! We are conducting an orbital strike!"

Blackshot glanced around, calculating the damage it would inflict on the city not far from the abandoned one he is currently into. The casualty it would make also flashed brightly in his mind. His heart beats faster once again as adrenaline rushed back in, reserved for another battle.

"No, don't fire!" Blackshot protested in reply. He glanced above and saw the silhouette of their huge ship, its belly glowing in blue. "Drop an Armament Crate instead. I'll hold them off!"

"But there's too many of them!"

Blackshot laughed in reply. "Have you not a faith, brother?" He asked as he smugly reply afterwards. "Drop the crate, now!"

After a few seconds, a large crate in dark green paint dropped from above. Three small thrusters underneath the crate fired in response as it reached low altitude, slowing its descent. It landed with a soft thud, opening as soon as it hits the ground. Blackshot approached the open crate and was greeted with multiple deadly arsenals inside. Blast Rifle, Kinetic Shotgun, Spike Shotgun, Disc Launcher, Ray Pistol, and a Shadow Pistol were neatly stored inside together with their respective ammunitions. One by one, he slid the smallest firearms into the holsters strapped around his thighs; Ray Pistol and the Shadow Pistol. He grabbed the Kinetic Shotgun, fed it with shells, and pumped it. He slid it on his back before doing the same thing with the Spike Shotgun; loading it with bullets and sliding it in his back. He lifted the Disc Launcher and aimed at a nearby tree. The digital corsairs sighted the thin and withering plant before letting go of it. An orange string appeared in an instant and prevented the weapon from falling. It was strapped to his chest, acting as a bandolier. He grabbed his favorite weapon, the Blast Rifle, and loaded it with a rectangular power cell of energy. It hummed and vibrated in reply, glowing steadily. He emptied the crate off the ammunition and stored all of it in every space of the armor.

He heard the distant growl of inhuman voices, getting louder and louder as seconds bled into minutes. He marched at the general direction of the sound; he was going to intercept them before they reach the city. He ran across the cracked pavement, sped past old benches and destroyed lamp posts. The trees rustled as the wind blows across the night. The street was dark and scary, giving any bystanders paranoia if they ventured further inside the abandoned city. Rumor has been spread that the abandoned city was a dump site for the dead. Paranormal occurrences were also reported in the area but skeptics always criticized the rumor as they conduct investigations in the area. So far, none of them returned and ended up missing instead.

Blackshot stopped and crouched behind a bench, letting the shadows obscure him. From the distance, he could see floating bloodshot eyeballs with feathered wings, flapping incessantly. Beside it were burning Human faces that displays insanity; expressions mixed with joy and sufferings. Their black eyes always dart from left to right, searching for any victims. Mouth curled in a smile, revealing sharp fangs. Flying swords also flew beside it. In the middle of the cross hilt of the floating swords were eyeballs with dilated pupils. The blade of the swords were bloodied, an indication that the Hellspawns might have killed something recently. They make up the bulk of the Fourth Swarm of Malice.

Below them were muscled hulk brutes whose abnormally large bodies were covered in stained metal. Their heads, ranging from a bright spotlight to a circular helmet with numerous holes, marched limply. Their hands were replaced by sharp blades and drilling cones. Flesh Metal Legionnaires, he thought. Blackshot switched to his Disc Launcher as he revealed himself. He fired at the nearest Demon Legionnaire thrice, discs embedding itself in its faceplate and sturdy chest. The discs exploded after it beeped twice. The explosion rattled the surrounding Demons as flesh and shrapnel rained everywhere. Blackshot aimed at the next one. He could see the Demon's head caged in metal. It wore a frenzied expression as it raced towards the Protectorate. Without hesitation, he aimed at its chest and fired twice. The disc flew with a whistling sound as it reached its mark. Blood spilled on the ground as the ordnance hit its intended target. The Demon took a step back as the disc beeped before exploding. The Demon let out a roar, still alive. Its chest has been blown out; ribcage were torn apart by the explosion, revealing three hearts inside and two pairs of lungs, one sac is scarred by the attack. Blackshot fired once more at the exposed organs; it beeped before exploding. It soaked the nearby Demons with blood and gore. He advanced a few paces at the marching army and spotted another Flesh Metal Legionnaire. Aiming at its chest and after, its left shoulder rigged with a portable missile launcher, Blackshot examined the creature briefly; its face was a rotating fan, chest covered with the same chest plate like its brethren, hands were amputated in favor of sharp blades and drilling cones. He fired at his intended mark; the explosion in the chest had stopped it momentarily and the ammunition inside the missile launcher exploded as the disc detonated, separating its left arm from the rest of its body in a wet and violent process.

"We have an attacker up ahead." A floating burning face reported to a flying sword. "We better execute an attack order before he rip the formation apart."

"If that is so, execute Attack Order Number 56."

"Melee, sir?"

"Yes, Melee."

One of the Flesh Metal Legionnaires roared before charging. Each heavy footfalls left cratered ground. It literally shook the ground underneath with every step it take. Despite of their large bodies, they move with a speed faster than their Hellspawn counterparts. One of them closed in at Blackshot, taking him by surprise. Blackshot rolled to his right as he nearly avoided a drilling cone that bored the ground where he was previously standing. He whirled at the direction of the Legionnaire and fired at its chest with the Disc Launcher. He rolled backward as the disc beeped twice before exploding. The Demon was still standing despite of the explosion. Using his left free hand, he raised the Blast Rifle and sprayed its exposed organs with it. He turned at the general direction of the advancing horde where he was met by a sword to chest. The Demon Legionnaire lifted him up, the blade slowly slides deeper inside his chest. Coughing blood and damaged flesh, he vomits the foul chemical of the sword that had slowly made its way in his systems. He raised his Disc Launcher and fired at its neck, decapitating it with a shot. The disc flew and landed at the chest of another Legionnaire before exploding. The Demon that had impaled him fell to its knees, motionless. Blackshot pulled himself out of the large blade as he hit the ground; blood flowed from his wounds along with the armor fluids that possessed healing capabilities. His wound felt itchy as it slowly closed itself up. The unmistakable aroma of the oil hit his nose; fruity, floral and sweet to the taste, yet too poisonous to digest even for a Protectorate. His ruined chestplate slowly sealed itself back to its original pristine state. He charged into battle once more, engaging the nearest Legionnaire. He fired three discs at its chest before spraying its face with plasma energy from his Blast Rifle. He turned at the next one, letting go of his weapons and switching to his Kinetic Shotgun. The orange lace prevents his rifles from falling to the ground. He blasted his target with shells to the chestplate, damaging it greatly. He quickly raised his Disc Launcher and fired at its exposed bare chest twice. An additional disc is not required since its armor has already been destroyed. A couple of explosion followed by wet cracks can be heard from the distance. He charged further, jumping to the left as a Legionnaire tried to impale him with a sword. He fired multiple times at its face with a Blast Rifle before firing a disc at its damaged face. He sprinted further, jumping over a pile of trash. He switched to his Spike Shotgun and fired at a Legionnaire. It took a step back, shrugging off the attack. Blackshot raised his Disc Launcher, feeling stupid for his actions, and fired thrice at its chest. A trio of explosion rang as the last Flesh Metal Legionnaire Demon fell backwards.

With the Legion out of the picture, he shifted his focus at the flying swarm above him. He let his weapons hang as both his hands swiftly snatched the Ray Pistol and Shadow Pistol from the holsters. Aiming upwards, he fired at a flying sword, breaking it in pieces. His aim jumped at his second target, a floating eyeball. It raced towards him, pupils glowed brightly as if it was going to fire something. Blackshot riddled it with bullet holes, streaks of shadow and light penetrated its soft skin. He moved to the right as he avoided a sword that almost pierced him. He kicked it away and showered it with pistol shots. He turned behind him and aimed at a burning face, mouth open showing a display of sharp teeth. Blackshot fired relentlessly before running to a nearby bench for cover. He was about to reload when a winged eyeball tackled him to the ground. His weapons were now out of reach. Blackshot sent a fist, forcing it to fly a few inches. His right hand swiftly grabbed the knife from his belt while his left hand pulled the wings of the eyeball closer. He drilled the knife three times before finally cutting it open in the fourth strike. He tossed the dead Hellspawn aside as he stood up. Grabbing the firearms from the ground, he aimed elsewhere and spotted another burning face. He aimed at the Hellspawn and fired, but all he got was an empty click.

"I forgot!" Blackshot yelled as he tossed his firearms in the air and drew his two swords from his back. He spun as he swings both blade over his head and strikes. He slid his weapon on his back again as he rolled away. He caught his guns before it hits the ground and reloaded as quickly as he could. He climbed on the top of the bench he was taking cover in and fired at the Hellspawns around him. He switched to his Blast Rifle and hoses down a swarm of winged eyeballs. He whirled to his right as he switched to his Kinetic Shotgun. Every Hellspawn hit vibrates as shells crushed it. He switched to his Disc Launcher and aimed at the last Hellspawn; a flying sword that looked to be larger than the rest of its kin. It sped at Blackshot but only to be shot with a disc. It exploded as soon as it beeped twice and made contact.

As soon as the fight was over, the familiar tranquility swept over him again. The peace and calmness had settled after the violent battle. He jumped from the bench and walked back to the abandoned playground not far from him. From there, he could see a trio of silhouettes. Judging them by their shadow, it seems like they were wearing the same Battle Armor like him. He increased his pace, from a walk to a jog and then broke into a full sprint.

--END--