The jagged mountain range was steeped in a layer of grey mist. The landscape was scarred with sequelae of destruction plaguing the mountaintops: cracks that flowed into ravines, holes that bore into gorges, even entire peaks that had been sheared away, forming near-vertical cliff faces. The land was blanketed with massive, mangled metal corpses and dislodged debris, increasing the terrain’s complexity to a frightening degree.

  Amos shuttled through the torn landscape, the wind howling at his back as he sprinted from one area to another. The tumultuous mountain passes were ideal for an ambush. The sheer amount of concealment and the residual energy and radiation would bind any organic or technological means.

  The Manzar were physically gifted, yes. But they were bulky and, comparatively, lacked agility. When faced with these treacherous and winding paths, their blind dash would be reduced to a crawl. These conditions were ideal for an ambush, and Amos fully intended to turn the mountain range into a killing field.

  He had left his unit to operate independently. He assigned them to reinforce any group that made contact with the enemy. On the other hand, he would act far more proactively and directly search for and eliminate the marauding soldiers as quickly as possible to even the odds between his crew and theirs.

  Amos sped along a narrow ridgeline dominated by smoke and shadow. He had already spotted his target – a roving patrol of twenty or so Marzans scouting along the edge of a towering cliff-face. Their stereotypical behavioral traits had betrayed them.

  Psychopaths are impulsive and prone to boredom, and, in the case of the soldiers, after hours of searching, their lack of stimulation was gnawing. In addition, their sense of superiority made them naturally rash and arrogant.

  All in all, the soldiers made no effort to conceal themselves as endless chittering in the Manzari native tongue rose from the valley in droves, intermittently interrupted by the faint sound of blasts or explosions as some soldier unloaded an energy weapon or kicked and smashed at a wall or obstacle in their path.

  They were exposed, but they didn’t care. They were bored, so they entertained themselves. So what if their location was uncovered? They were hunting hapless scavengers who had scurried away at their arrival and were outnumbered ten to one. The soldiers trudged along carelessly as they turned away from the cliff.

  Amos streaked through the penumbra before coming up on the cliff’s edge and jumping down. He plummeted for several meters, his eyes no longer warm and leisurely, but hard as he landed directly onto an enemy soldier.

  His heavy metal frame crashed through the body, splitting it into two mangled halves. Indigo blood and innards caked the mechanical boots as Amos stared down the remaining nineteen soldiers with a piercing gaze. The Marzani visibly flinched before their training, personality, and genetics compelled them forward.

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  Amos splayed his two hands open as two exaggeratedly long Jians flew out, their hilts firmly grasped in his palms. The ends curved backwards at a serpentine angle. The blade was made from micro-sliding pieces of metal, granting immense flexibility. And with his dexterous capability, they were no different from whips swung with frightening accuracy.

  Before the soldiers could take even a step forward, Amos was upon them.

  He swung his right hand forward, the blade coiling like a spring before exploding forward, decapitating the frontrunner. Amos flexed his forearm, pointing forward, the blade seemed to freeze its middle bowing backwards into a curve before thrusting forward like a snake piercing another man’s jugular and severing his spine.

  Amos tilted his head, avoiding a wayward energy blast.

  The Jian swayed in the air before whistling down from above. The Manzar parried it – the wrist blade grating against the edge in a flurry of sparks. Amos continued unperturbed as he flicked his wrist a wave seemingly travelling through the sword before the tip curled like a serpent’s bite, stabbing through the shoulder blade.

  The man snarled as his other upper arm immobilized Amos’ left shoulder with a crushing grip as the two lower wrist weapons began to glow with light. Amos grunted in response before wrenching his shoulder free with a twist as the attached blade became a giant hook, dragging him forward as he ducked under the two shots.

  He slid under the soldier’s legs, the free sword’s grip reversed in tow as he violently crossed both arms. The trapped blade freed itself, mangling the opponent’s heart in its wake as the other swept up from below, cleanly severing a leg at the hip. Blood rained down – his initially grey suit now mottled with steaming indigo spots.

  Amos breathed sharply before lunging to the side as more than ten purple streaks of light punched holes into the ground he was just standing on. He sprinted sideways as a wall of beams chased after him before diving behind a boulder and disappearing.

  The survivors rushed forward, cursing in their native tongue:

  “Fuck. We lost him.”

  “Any response from command?”

  “Communication’s jammed.”

  'Tchh.'

  “To much interference.”

  They responded one after another.

  Amos circled them wordlessly – patiently stalking them. He was waiting for an opportunity, a gap in their field of vision

  And then he found it.

  A swooshing sound was heard as the Jian – now fully straightened and rigid – flew out, piercing through two adjacent men’s heads. The soldiers all turned immediately, pummeling the general point of origin with a hail of fire.

  Amos hurtled down, catching the handle of the thrown blade with one smooth motion before unleashing a whirlwind of strikes. The winds subdivided, revealing a blue wraith – severed bodies lay strewn around in a circle, cut down with clinical precision.

  Amos flicked both blades forward, cleaning them of any residuals. The fog had been cleared, and the air was now thick with the taste of aerosolized blood. Amos flickered, fading into the shadows, bringing one hand to his earpiece.

  All he thought about in that moment was all he was going to say:

  “Clear.”