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“Watch out!”
Himeko’s warning comes a hairsbreadth too late, the viper’s tongue already wrapping around Feixiao’s neck. Her hands instinctively drop her shotgun in favor of reaching up and trying to claw the slippery appendage away. The viper yanks her back, and she ends up on her knees. Retching and coughing, she doesn’t catch her breath before the viper’s wrapping itself around her. With a powerful squeeze, it traps her in its coils
Voices echo over the comm in her ear: Kafka and Himeko’s panic, the Commander’s strained calm. Feixiao twists in the viper’s grip, but it simply constricts tighter. Her bones creak beneath the pressure. She wheezes as she reaches for the barest breath of air, and black begins to flicker at the edges of her vision.
The tips of her fingers only just barely brush the grenade belted at her waist, and her arms are too tightly pinned against her sides to even try to pull the pin. A weak growl passes through her gritted teeth. Can’t even take this son of a bitch down with me, she thinks.
She thinks like there aren’t already tears streaking her face.
She thinks like her heart isn’t already tearing itself to pieces.
She thinks like she’s already come to terms with her own death.
But she hasn’t. Not really. Even as the darkness spreads across her vision and her lungs choke on too little air and her limbs go numb from lack of bloodflow, she still prays to an unfeeling, unhearing, unanswering god to let her live. Let her go home and fall into Kafka and Himeko’s arms, sweaty and sticky from the mission, on that too-small barracks bed as they wait for a chance at a five-minute shower.
The chatter on the comms fades away. Every blink is slower and slower.
Then, through the darkness creeping in, a burst of brilliant indigo. There’s a hum of slashing psionics, the hissing screech of the viper, and air has never tasted sweeter. Feixiao’s lungs expand with a hoarse gasp as she falls into Kafka’s arms.
The first words she hears are Kafka’s, “I’ve got you, birdie.” Kafka’s gauntlets, capable of channeling such deadly psionic power, are gentle as she looks Feixiao over, her mauve eyes crinkled with stress.
If Feixiao had the breath, she would kiss her until the concern washes off her face like rain.
The next words she hears are Himeko’s, “Oh no, you won’t get away.” Her modified GREMLIN whines and grinds as it cuts through the viper’s scales. The viper dies with a cry and an explosion of yellow blood, and Himeko stands triumphantly over it, fists shaking at her sides.
Feixiao reaches up and covers one of Himeko’s shaking hands with her own. She slides her other hand into one of Kafka’s, and Kafka squeezes it firmly.
The Commander’s voice comes through the comms, asking if everyone’s alright.
The moment broken, Feixiao pulls herself to her feet, Kafka following her with outstretched arms in case she falls. “I’m fine,” she says, coughing lightly. “We’re fine.” With a final, gentle squeeze of her partners’ hands, she lets them go. They move back into formation around her, heads on a swivel for any more ADVENT waiting to ambush them.
Picking up her fallen shotgun, Feixiao rolls her shoulders and bites back a wince. “Let’s say we clear out the rest of these sons of bitches, so we can go home.
“I can get behind that,” Kafka purrs.
Himeko laughs. “Next kill gets the first shower?”
“After a trip to the infirmary,” the Commander says in their ears. “Be careful now, Menace. We’re still picking up some chatter, so you’re not out of the woods yet.”
“Roger that. On the move.”