Thirstfall - Memory of a Returnee-Chapter 30: Tunnel Vision

The remaining cadet doesn’t rush me.

​He looks at his partner’s decapitated body, then at my empty hands, and his stance completely changes. The arrogant posture melts away, replaced by a low, wide guard. He points the tip of his longsword directly at my chest, keeping maximum distance.

​Smart. He realized my blade is short and only exists when I want it to. He’s going to play the reach game.

​I circle left, my boots crunching softly against the gravel. My lungs are already burning. The residual adrenaline from the Stalker and the first kill is fading, and I can feel this garbage body trembling all over.

​But I don’t back down. I can’t give up now. I step into his range, feinting a forward dash.

​He doesn’t bite. Instead, he uses his superior reach, snapping a quick, probing thrust at my throat.

​I step sharply off the centerline to my right, igniting my hilt. Eventide flares to life with a violet hiss for a fraction of a second—just enough to slap the flat of his blade, redirecting the lethal point over my left shoulder.

​I step into the opening, aiming a punch with the heavy metal hilt at his exposed jaw.

​But he’s fast. He uses the redirected momentum of his own sword to pivot on his heel, pulling his arms in tight and throwing a brutal backhand strike with his armored elbow.

​It catches me right in the ribs.

​The breath is knocked out of me in a wet wheeze. I stumble back, my fragile ribs bending dangerously under the impact. Before I can regain my footing, the leader is already resetting his guard, sweeping the longsword in a horizontal arc to keep me away.

​I drop into a crouch, feeling the gust of air as the steel whistles an inch above my hair.

​I ignite the blade again—same tactic, just for a split second—rolling forward and slicing upward at his leading leg.

​He leaps backward, the shadow-blade barely grazing the thick leather of his greaves, leaving a smoking, decaying scorch mark but drawing no blood.

​I stagger as I stand up, my vision swimming for a split second. My breathing is heavy and ragged. The mental strain of perfectly timing the ignition of the blade is exhausting, and my physical "Shell" is hitting its limit.

​My HUD flashes in my peripheral vision.

​[OXI: 450/1,200]

​Shit. I’m burning too much just trying to get inside his guard.

​A cold drop of sweat rolls down my spine.

​Something is wrong.

​A nagging itch in the back of my veteran consciousness is screaming at me, telling me that I missed a piece of the puzzle. Something I forgot.

​The leader circles me, his breathing steady. He’s waiting for me to gas out.

​Think, Dryden. Focus.

​My brain feels muddy. The fatigue is making me sloppy.

​Ignore the instinct. End him now before the OXI hits zero.

​I plant my back foot and launch myself forward, abandoning defense to force a lethal exchange. I ignite and raise Eventide to shatter his guard by brute force.

​THWACK.

​The impact hits my right shoulder before I even hear the sound.

​It feels like someone swung a sledgehammer into my collarbone. The kinetic force spins me around, shattering my forward momentum and sending me crashing hard into the dirt. Eventide drops from my numb fingers, deactivating instantly as it hits the ground.

​A sickening heat spreads across my right side.

​I look down. A thick, metallic bolt is buried deep in the muscle of my right shoulder, pinning my arm uselessly to my side.

​A crossbow bolt.

​And then, clarity hits me like a bucket of ice water.

​The projectile that exploded next to Lola earlier... When she first stepped out of cover, the blast that hit the ground wasn’t a sword shockwave or a spell. It was heavy ranged fire.

​The Drowned team that found us... they weren’t just two swordsmen. It was a Vanguard and a Ranger.

​I got tunnel vision. I was so focused on executing the grunts in front of me that I completely forgot the sniper still sitting in the canopy. I was stupid. I was reckless.

​My HUD bleeds red, confirming my massive failure.

​[Status Effect: Bleeding]

[Damage Received: -90 OXI]

[OXI: 360/1,200]

​Pain violently rips through my nervous system, but I force myself to roll behind the shattered base of a stone pillar as another bolt shatters the gravel where my head just was.

​PING

​I press my back against the cold stone, gripping my wounded shoulder. Blood is seeping through my fingers, warm and sticky.

​Fuck!

It’s a 2v1 now. The swordsman is pushing my cover, and the sniper has me pinned down.

​Should I call Lola? Have her blast the whole area?

​No...

​I grit my teeth, suppressing a groan of pain.

​Goddamn... What am I thinking?

​Lola is a siege cannon, but she is fragile. She needs a proper Tank to draw aggro and protect her cast time. I am a Rank-F rogue in rags. If I call her out now, the sniper will put a bolt through her head before she can even lift that massive weapon. I can’t risk her innocence—or her life—in this crossfire.

​I look at the unlit hilt of Eventide lying in the dirt, just a foot away from my cover.

​I have 360 OXI, one good arm, and a sniper watching my every move.

​Think, rat. Think... It would be a cosmic disgrace. Getting a second chance and not even surviving long enough for the first return to Earth... I’ve lost track of how many times I almost died in my past life, but going out like this? It’s pathetic.

​I reach into my pocket with my trembling good hand and pull out the escape flask. I stare at it. The soft blue light inside glows invitingly.

​Looks like I have to hit the ’bitch button.’

I close my eyes, the throbbing pain anchoring me to reality. I focus on my breath, forcing my diaphragm to steady, trying to find a scrap of calm.

Better a coward than a corpse...

I wrap my fingers around the glass, ready to shatter it.

Let’s do it.