FSE

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Phase 1, Chapter 12.

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The time for playing lightweight had ended, heralded by the satisfying click of Isaballa's safety only moments before. Kalevar's mind was in a different place now, setting aside the playful banter between himself and his Overseer and toggling off the switch. He would not have her monitoring his thoughts, as a courtesy to her and not as a precaution for his own sake. Fayah meant well, but she was a young and sheltered kitten working from within a control point. She had no business living in the depths of hell which existed in the heart of a hardened slayer of men. His enemies had taken their flight into the heavily convoluted warehouse, leaving the wildcat with nothing but his predatory instincts and sharpened senses, each a tool which had been sharpened over years of bloodshed. Quite simply put, there was nothing fair about this engagement. He may have been outnumbered to an indisputable ratio, one that someone facing only statistics would certainly rule against him, but nomatter the apparent odds on paper the advantages rested entirely within his favor.

Veridian eyes glinted ominously amidst the shadow as Kalevar's lithe form cut into the dense maze of wood, his weapon moving target to target as though knowing where to strike, understanding where each opponent would be well before the enemy themselves knew their own decisions. Playing upon their fear like a map, the hunter moved through the makeshift corridors, creating no sound save for the immediate burst of fire and tinkling of emptied brass each time an enemy was ambushed and dropped. A particularly close kill left his paws and muzzle stained in gore, having rounded a corner directly onto a frenzied reptile in order to catch the scalie hard acrost the face with the buttstock of his carbine. In her panic, the creature had managed to fire off a round... Right into her own head. The resulting crimson now streaked over the eyes and fangs of her would-have-been killer as he rapidly vaulted a series of stacked boxes in order to move atop the mazelike walls. A party of tightly grouped criminals were there to greet him, the last remnants of their panicked crew huddled in a single position so as to prevent themselves from being picked off one by one... Too frightened to realize that what they had done instead was create a massive target of opportunity.

A wide leap brought Kalevar soaring between panels of storage crates, his weapon unleashing a hail of death upon the unwary drug runners as four of the seven were sent sprawling to the ground in puddles of their own essence.

"God, DAMNIT! Somebody fucking SHOOT HIM!!"

A large feline tabby screamed, his teeth clenched so tightly he had practically filed away their points as he turned the barrel of his shotgun towards the crates Kalevar had descended behind and unleashed a storm of fire. Rapidly pumping his weapon for shot after shot until his companions followed suite, pellets and slugs all storming through the aging wood. The soldier whom they sought to kill had to give the man credit, for managing to goad his followers into action like that even while he himself was demoralized as he was. A pity that he had condemned himself to this sort of life. With the proper sharpening, the tabby might have made a proficient leader in the field. Kalevar contemplated these things quietly, as he laid patiently flat against the cold cement floor. The unnatural height of his entrance paired with the hip-fire strategies of his untrained enemies easily dictated that all shots being fired were aimed easily at or above chest level for the average combatant, leaving him entirely in the clear save for bits and pieces of splinter and dust. Ignoring the debris, the warfighter crawled slowly forwards, using the noise coverage from his assailant's weapons to cover the scraping sounds of his equipment against the floor, angling himself around the corner just as the firing came to a halt.

"Do you think we got him? We had to have got him!"

"Quiet! Just use your damn ears!"

"I'm all out of rounds, Komet, I shot everything I had."

"Don't say that out loud, idiot! He might still be out there!"

"No way, he has to be dead. He has to be, he hasn't fired back a single time."

"Fuck, Komet, nobody could live through that. We got him."

"Idiots, none of you know that! You think it's really that easy? Did you even fucking see him, what he was wearing? This guy is not FUCKING AROUND."

The tabby whirled on the spot, spraying a burst of shot into the wall of crates which was behind them, in response to a grating of metal against wood. The firing started up in force once again, every man flying off the handle into panic offense. Little did they know the sound itself had been caused by nothing more than an empty magazine, sent sliding against the floor by its owner for just such a distraction. With his movements once again easily cloaked by the echoes of gunfire, Kalevar scaled the crates behind his foes. Propping Isabella in the groove between pallets, the wildcat took aim, before unleashing a counter initiative of his own which left no survivors. Perhaps not a moment too soon, as the sounds of vehicles skidding into place began to fill the air outside the steel warehouse doors.

_ "Lovely.. I had been hoping for more reinforcements." _

The statement was little more than a growl, as the wildcat's velvet tongue slowly ran over the edge of his muzzle, soaking up the blood which had finally drizzled all the way down his face. The fierce red coated his fangs, presenting a terrifying scowl as he wasted no time in emptying the rest of his magazine into a set of nearby windows, opposite from the direction of the stairs he was headed for. Letting the magazine clamor to the floor, trained hands pulled another curved silo skillfully from the pouches covering his form, slamming it into position and jerking to assure retention before releasing their grip. Previously silent pawsteps devolved into large, metallic clanks as they pounded up the rusted staircases into the warehouse heights. The sound of the warehouse barriers being slid open behind him reached his ears as he turned the corner to face the second floor entryway, ignoring the doorknob completely as he instead slammed his shoulder into the wood like a freight train unwilling to relinquish his speed. He had to admit, he did not expect to be greeted by a large rottweiler with a two-by-four clenched in his fists. The blow came faster than even Kale could react, doubling up on momentum as it used both the force from the wildcat's own bullrush and the torqued swing from its canine wielder in order to catch him in the stomach so hard that he practically bent in half. Sent flying back towards the door, Kale felt his vision flash black as he tried to register his surroundings, the world swimming with lights as he struggled to move towards his feet.

He was afforded no such opportunity, another blow coming crashing down towards his head. He barely had time to raise Isabella to a defensive crossgaurd, holding her frame horizontally acrost his face in order to prevent the downward vertical slash. The sheer force of the swing made his elbows lock, Isabella being forced back against his face by the blow. The forward assist dug into the space between his eyes, drawing blood from his forehead and leaving a wide split in his flesh... But the wound was not what caught the wildcat's attention. No, what he had noticed most was the snapping sounds, not from himself, but from Isabella's stock. The cheap synthetic stock he had managed to scrounge off the underground market was not suited to withstanding blows from large hunks of wood. In a way, it was fortunate, as the sudden influx of anger that surged within Kalevar at the prospect of having his baby broken in two sent him flying into responsive action out of sheer outrage despite his now severely broken ribs. As the next blow came downwards, Isabella's sling was used to catch the canine's bludgeon, Kalevar wrapping the strong fabric around it and pulling sharply back to bring the rottweiler careening into him in order to meed both hindpaws to the stomach. The blow forced the dog to drop his current weapon, but extras were not lacking. A new piece of nearly identical two-by-four was claimed from where an entire pile leaned against a nearby desk.

Both parties blinded by aggression, the ending result became comparable to a game of chicken, as the men came flying together as harshly as they were physically able. Slamming their respective pieces of wood against one another, the 'fight' broke down into a series of grunts and hisses as the two swung at each other with their free hands, each jarring against the brace of their own lumber in an attempt to shove the other forward or back. Often the length of the wood would be too significant to fit in certain angles within the hallway, locking against walls or corners and causing an even greater fuss between the combatants as they fought to free the timber in order to swing it at one another again. The stalemate could have gone on forever, blood pouring from both of the combatant's faces as they tangled together, but Kalevar could not afford for that to happen. His opponent held the advantage of time in this engagement, as even now extra drug runners were likely preparing to storm the warehouse behind him. A sudden realization hit Kalevar in that moment. His retractable claws unsheathed then, lashing outwards in a vicious swipe which tore a huge portion of the Rottweiler's face away, slitting him open like fresh deli meat as a bout of maniacal laughter erupted forth from the soldier.

"Gods, I never once dreamed I'd be thankful to be a feline! Cat got your tongue, there, jackass? Ahahaha! No?! Then how about your EYES~!!"

A second swipe tore across the canine's upper face and sent him reeling backwards. After spending this entire time fighting as though he were still a wolf, zulu-three had to admit that being a cat wasn't so bad... Infact it was quite useful. Perhaps he could look into having a set of these babies cybernetically grafted into his paws. Now was not the time to entertain such notions however, as his opponent was finally staggering and on a defensive retreat. With all the power he had left in his form, the wolf-turned-wildcat raised his two by four like a spear and bull rushed the canine. The plank of timber caught the dog in the stomach, forcing him back and back as Kalevar continued the charge, until both canine and carpentry were sent flying out a side window to plummet towards the earth below. There was no time to savour a victory, as the very troops which had began to storm the area below swarmed through the doorway and into the second floor. Emerald eyes widened as, for a brief moment, a sensation reminiscent of fear struck Kalevar's heart.

~Overseer to Zulu-Three! Zulu-- Kalevar! Forget the protocol, damnit! Kalevar, you have to jump!~

The message burned in his mind even as his paws had already reached for his sidearms, bringing Jezel and Jenna to bear and firing off as many rounds as he could tap through before sprinting down an adjoining side hallway. Even had every one of his rounds found a target down the hall, there were still far too many enemies for him to handle without Isabella, who's broken form had been sent to rest with the rottweiler. Toggling his commlink within his mind, the wildcat began to shout in aggravation as he backpedaled furiously towards the third-floor stairs while double spamming his dual pistols backwards to suppress the enemy pursuit as much as possible.

"What do you mean, jump?! Jump where?! And from what?!"

~I mean jump! Out a window, from a balcony or a ledge, anything! You have to get out of there!~

"Are you absolutely fucking crazy?!! Sure, two stories isn't exactly suicide if you're alone and the building is, say, about to explode! But with people swarming this entire fucking street?! I wouldn't make it ten yards after hitting the ground!"

~Then DON'T! DON'T HIT THE GROUND!~

"Excuse me?! Last time I checked I was still victim to gravity here! I don't exactly have fucking wings!"

~YES YOU DO. YOU HAVE FUCKING WINGS!~

The kitten's sudden screaming paired with her heavy panting after the fevered outburst caught Kalevar off guard, and he literally paused in surprise until a bullet to the thigh tore him back into reality. Swearing and spitting derogatory slurrs of all kinds, the wildcat shoved his pistols into their holsters and did everything he could to ignore the pain. The burning sensation in his leg and the warm, sticky fluids running downwards with each pulse of his muscles. The searing, desperate screams of his ribs and lungs as their pressure created bubbles of agony within his core. The world became a haze of pain and colour, blurring into indifference as he did nothing but run. Upwards, upwards, onto the roof. Spotlights were everywhere, and in the distance the swift rotary of what he swore had to be a helicopter beat against the air. Bullets began to fly upwards, muzzle flash spewing upwards from positions on the ground, but he paid them no attention. His drive was set, he had no idea what he was doing but it was about to happen anyway. A deep, reckless scream of abandon started within his chest as his weighted pawsteps brought him ever closer to the ledge. For a moment, he felt frozen in time as his muscles strained like a spring and sent him lunging into the open air. He hung for what felt like an eternity, waiting for the familiar, weightless feeling of a drop. Instead, what came was a flash of optical sensations, numbers and characters streaming through his mind and eyes like a kaleidoscope of multicoloured languages.

The fall came then, the dropping sensation gripping his stomach with claws of steel as it began to return his screaming form to the earth... Only to be resisted by the powerful beating of luminescent psionic wings. The appendages sprouted from behind his shoulderblades like shrouds of opaque silver, swirling through the air in tendrils of illumination which caught each draft with precision and grace. Although they had never before been a part of him, it was as though his mind automatically knew their muscle control, taking them as they were with no repercussions or doubts. Before he understood how he was truly doing it, Kalevar was angling towards his fallback point, sweeping downwards to retrieve his hidden munitions and firearms. Sirens sounded all around in the distance as flames kicked up from the base of the warehouse, a furious attempt by the drug network to mask the true nature of their goods before the authorities had arrived.

Somewhere in the pit of his stomach, Kalevar felt a deep regret settle in over the intense pain of his injured body. This entire thing had done nothing but buy him time, prevent the inevitable ransom of the city. He had not managed to steal anything of worth, no information or paperwork, nothing. The entire warehouse had been nearly entirely devoid of such materials even if he had been allowed time to scrounge for them, the facility oddly empty save for the massive storage floor filled with... Whatever they were smuggling. Whatever this shit was. Whatever it did. The only consolation was that now, this much of it was in flames. Taken out of play... And perhaps with the added benefit of greater police pressure against the Crimson Sting. He wouldn't count on it, though... After all, the law may not have been aware of the truly sinister edge waiting to be employed by the gang, but they knew plenty of their existence. They simply couldn't stop them. Admittedly, in his heart, Kale was beginning to wonder if he could stop them either... But as he soared over the city, cloaked in the glow of unnatural wings, he found that he could not own those doubts. Not here in the clouds, with the moon as a witness to his glory.

~You can do it, Kalevar. Only you. And we're here to keep you on your feet, or should I say, in the air?~

The familiar voice of Dr. Bastov spoke over the comm rather than Fayah, and the otter's eccentric air brought a grin to the wildcat's face. With people like this on his side, how could he lose? Even if he was alone... He wasn't really alone. Although he was but one man, he was more than that... And he pitied the masses who were set against him.

_ ~In the air, indeed, Bastov! God damn, i'm glad to hear you!~ _

~Oh, I see how it is you stupid mutt!~

_ ~Easy, kitten. Adults are talking.~ _

~Y.. You!!~

--end-- ... To be cont...