The Numbers

[Fehrant]

With a single steel pipe, and an arm as fragile looking as a girl's arm could be, four blue zombies were been kept at bay. Each time one of them approached, trying to lunge at the target, a steel pipe hit their faces. It all happened fast, and continuously. It happened from all angles, but it made no difference. It was like a hurricane amidst an angry river; so many blue zombies ran past her that it looked like continuous water streaming. Some of the creatures try to stand their ground against V. They jumped and lunged, but it was all futile. Her strikes were so systematic and precise, that she looked like a robot.

Sweat trickled down her forehead. Her teeth were clenched and her grip was firm on the metal piece. The pipe switched hands all the time so deftly it looked like a circus performer. Sometimes she would even hit creatures with her elbow, fist, legs, head--anything available. Her hands were red and violet, and it was unclear if the blood smeared on her was her own, or the constant waves of attackers'.

She started breathing heavily. If she could have, she would have stopped and rested, but that would mean death right now. Finally, after breaking several bones repeatedly, the pipe gave out. Half of the pipe remained lodged in one of the creature's bashed skull, but she didn't relent. Using the remaining short half she still fought, but now she stopped advancing forward. She started using her hands more, and while she could cause some damage, it was mostly non-lethal, merely delaying the creatures.

It had been an impressive sight to see, but the show was drawing to an end. Back against the wall, she kept them from tearing her apart. A strong blow made sent her remaining weapon flying in the air, just before the creature responsible got his neck snapped.

The view inside her head, the blue and black outlines that made her precise world, started to blink and blur, like a malfunctioning monitor about to shut down. With her last remaining ounce of strength, she jumped gracefully into the air, and used the head of one of her foes to jump forward, in the direction the flow of zombies was going. She repeated this process, and for a while, she seemed to be making incredible progress -- a flamingo using its long legs to wade through obstacles in the water so naturally, it looked like anyone could do it. But she was at her limit. She slipped, and her world started to fade. Then it all came to view once more, when an intense hit in the back sent her flying further with the current. She slammed against the wall hard, and fell to the ground.

Heavy steps filled the hallway, heavier than those of the blue zombies. A four-legged creature. Number III opened a path mounting on a Rhino that had a ghastly blue aura. She got to V before the creatures managed to tear her apart. She concentrated for a moment, and the same ghastly blue aura enveloped her body. The aura however left her, and a gorilla took shape. The gorilla easily set V atop the rhino with Number III, and they all fell back toward the rest of the party who was already dealing with their share as well, but at least managed to hold out.

[T.G. Oskar]

His time for rest was short. XIII's muscles still felt stiff, despite the rest and his attempts to reclaim some of his dexterity. He noticed as the rest of the group moved, and he made an effort to move along with them. It seemed as if few people noticed him, aside from Two and his assistance in helping him stand at least sitting on the capsule bed. He gathered enough strength to leave his capsule, to follow the group.

It seemed, for a moment, that he would succeed in leaving the bed. And, it seemed as it would: his leg had already moved into the cold metal floor, and only a slight push would release him. But, after the effort, his body again reacted the wrong way: he lost his balance and fell into the ground, his shoulder being the first to meet the ground. Even the reaction of pain was different: despite his muscles receiving the direct impact, they barely hurt; instead, his head and all the way from it to its shoulder received a slight shock, which produced a limited yet intense sensation of pain. He flinched from that pain, and sought to rub his shoulder with what limited dexterity he could have. Why was his muscle apparently devoid of harm, yet his head felt like if a needle had pierced it?

He noticed as how the group was almost gone. He struggled to lift up, using the capsules as support while his body slowly rose into a standing position. He moved slowly, with stiff movements and almost dragging his feet through the metallic floor. While the group itself moved slowly, he moved even slower than the rest, unaware of why his body was so unresponsive. Walking without support was a chore, and he embraced the cold metal walls, seeking to remain erect. It was at this moment when he realized part of what happened: the corpses shred to ribbons while a much larger corpse lay defeated, bloated. A sign of a losing battle, an eerie calm after the storm of battle was what he could grasp from the scene. His struggle to wake left him devoid of the important information given by the lone scientist, the very same one that he made fall out of reaction. The piercing pain that he felt in his head receded, but the difficulty of movement remained even after being awake for so long. This couldn't be sleep paralysis; this had to be something else.

With his slow pace, he did manage to catch up with the party, as they made a brief stop because of tensions between it. He saw the same Two that helped him grab the scientist and question him, with a face of disgust. The party stopped around him, giving XIII enough time to move. He managed to gather wind of the conversation, of the delicate themes Two managed to acquire from the scientist.

War. Renegade superhumans, one of them being the creator of that very monster he saw lying dead beneath the doors of the room in which he awakened. Apparently they were held on an underground installation, to which they had to reach the surface. The creator of these..."zombies", for lack of a better word, was still out and at large. There were more people as well, some of them on their own and unwilling to cooperate.

The tension receded, and the group began moving towards a hallway divided by two routes. XIII knew he was hindering the movement of the group, because of his slow movement, but somehow he was never far away from the group. Yet again, the group stopped, giving him time enough to regroup with them. This time, it was the girl marked with the number V. She claimed someone was alive, and the scientist stopped so that they could confirm what was happening. He got inside the room at last, just at the moment a dying person gave the very same scientist what seemed to be a communication device of sorts, a walkie-talkie to be precise. He heard the device lacked batteries, so they were effectively in-communicated until someone found a source of energy to power it up.

He was moving slowly to where the group circled, when he heard the sounds. Apparently, they weren't alone: something, something which he hadn't heard in his lifetime, screeched on the distance. Everybody was alert, yet not aware of their peers. He noticed as Five began to lose her consciousness, slowly, while Two and the one numbered Four tried to wake her. Two spoke to Five, while she regained her composture:

"Quick, we have to get to the elevator."

"They are already here. They are coming both this way, and that way. A fight is unavoidable. The thinner ranks are not towards the elevator; it's the other way, towards the stairs." Pointing to the areas where the mysterious creatures were their weakest, the party prepared to face them. Five wandered away, and managed to face a group of the beings; at the same time, the man numbered IX battled on the other side and the man known as VII was knocked aside, in the confusion of the battle. XIII knew he had to do something, but he was not ready to fight. From what he saw, these beings were faster and stronger than him, and his stiff muscles were a liability to the party.

Then he remembered.

I can't help them. If only I could move like before. But...I remember that jolt. It felt like a current, like if something moved inside of me. I did tremble a bit, I recall. Yeah. Maybe...I see all of them using powers, and I'm here...perhaps I hold powers of my own? And if the scientist fell from my side, then...

He moved his body towards where the scientist remained, outside from the heat of combat. While his traveling companions acted outside of his perception, XIII focused on gaining control of the device, of the walkie-talkie in his hand. The last gift of the dying boy, the one he felt he could use better.

Strangely enough, for the slow movement he manifested, he couldn't notice the sudden outburst of dexterity flowing from his arm. With a strong and almost mumbling "Gimme that!!!", XIII snatched the device from the unsuspecting scientist. The movement of the arm was almost automatic, and impressively fast: the hand of the scientist briefly flinched as if he couldn't still realize he held nothing in the palm, but the strength of the muscle's grasp compensated for the lack of mass. The movement was very fast, but XIII couldn't notice: he still grasped the device with a tremor in his hand, as if he held no strength to even lift it. He relaxed his arm, and began revising the device to see where the batteries were located. With difficulty, he removed the tab where the batteries were supposed to be, and indeed, there were no batteries. He noticed the amount of spaces required for each battery, and looked at his fingers.

The scientist had apparently noticed now. He shouted at XIII, surprised that he held the device he supposedly held in his hands. When he tried to catch the device back again, XIII had already placed some of the fingers in the battery spaces; instantly, he felt a jolt in his fingers and what seemed to be that very same current flowing through his body, and almost instantly the device came to life. The scientist was surprised, despite his stern look: it seemed there was no more need for batteries. XIII closed his eyes, and focused on that current he felt; it was evident the current was, strangely enough, weak. He meditated upon the speed of the current, trying to speed it so as to meet the pull of the metal springs, which he felt as hungry coils draining energy from his body. He didn't felt more tired than he already was, but he felt something was wrong. He worked with the current until the sensation of hunger was over, and when he opened his eyes, he saw the scientist trying to work with the device. It was active, and releasing the typical sound when there is no sound.

The sound of white noise.