Twenty-Eight

The flames devoured the girl and the Reaper watched with a slightly sullen expression. As much as she would have liked to end things without pain, her job hardly ever allowed that. Shana's hazel eyes looked as the homunculus struggled within the wave of fire.

'She's not screaming?' That was unusual, homunculi could feel pain, but she had yet to hear any screaming. That was the point she would go to before she called off the spirit.

Yet—

Her eyes widened.

It took only a few seconds for Rose to realize the flames did nothing to her. The blaze of fire spun around her figure, swirling and mixing, before being forced into the weapon in her hand as it burned orange. She could hear the sound of a bird whimpering and crying as in pain and, soon, the spirit of fire flew away from her—receding with the flap of its fiery wings.

Emerald eyes looked ahead to see the Reaper already grasping her weapon back in hand with eyes of confusion.

". . .a gear?"

She was in disbelief and Rose swung her blade.

Fire blazed the entire rift of her front, a cry rang, and a beak opened up and flew to devour the girl. Yet, the experienced fighter was quick as she jumped backwards and her phoenix spirit dived forward to meet its counterparts.

The two creatures of mana clashed and fire spurred the surroundings. Rose looked on to see beak and beak ripping each other to shreds and taking to the sky.

The heat in the surroundings sharply increased and the desert sand rolled with the wind. The two females stared at each other as the two flaming beasts within the air cried their last and disappeared in a spurt of fire.

'Well,' Shana thought, 'There goes one.'

"Just let me be," Rose said as she gripped <Igris> tighter. The blade was very familiar at this moment and she couldn't understand why it was a must she be taken back to the city of Alos and reconfigured.

She wasn't one to shy away from battle, nor was she one to stray from killing if the need rose—but she rather it didn't.

"No can do," The Reaper replied, smiling slightly and taking out what looked akin to a metal slab. 'Let's take you down, first, and chat later.' In reality, she was only aiding her curiosity.

The metal vibrated then—swoosh—out came a blade of blue, made out of compressed, azure mana. It looked calm at the moment, as if it had actually become solid. The weapon reached to the feet of the soldier and touched the ground, instantly making a cut in the floor.

Rose was the first to move, taking a step forward and breaking into a run.

Shana raised her Mana Blade and slashed out.

The blade of the armament squirmed, danced, then disappeared. . .

When the slash passed, Rose found herself facing a maze of condensed, mana blades slicing towards her. They covered the air like a net.

'Armaments can do that—?' Of course they could.

She gripped her weapon and shifted her body, dodging through the volley of attacks as her consciousness latched onto the mana in the air. She moved with clarity and ease, her clothing ripped with the unfamiliarity this new type of battle brought as they touched the blades, but at the end, she had escaped the volley to meet the Reaper head on.

But Shana merely laughed.

"I don't have only one Spirit, kid."

Behind her, a brown mist manifested into the image of what appeared like a bull with crimson eyes. It floated and then opened its jaws, roaring into the world as the air shook. It ran within the air and then leaned into the girl.

The brown wave shook over Shana as the hazy image descended into her body. She smiled, looking up with gleaming eyes and a smirk.

She stamped onto the ground, shaking it as sand shot into the air. As the dust fell, Rose heard her words.

"Let me show you how real fights are fought." The Reaper tightened the grip on her pulse pistol and took a step forward.

Rose blinked her eyes.

A fist appeared at her face.

The ground shattered as she jumped back, narrowly avoiding the hole upon the desert floor. Her blade shook and she spun, slashing out as it burned orange. A slab of metal met it head-on, in an effort to block its advance, but it merely sliced it into two and continued on.

A foot stomped onto the ground, sand rumbled, and Shana Striker flipped. A force pummeled against Rose's chin, sending her flying into the air before a pistol aimed at her and fired.

The pain of a hot, vibrating, pulse ripping through her abdomen was unlike anything she had ever felt. She fell upon the desert floor, surprise mixed with a trace of caution. Even as her core pumped mana into her, boosting her speed and strength, the Reaper matched it all perfectly.

Rose stood up with gritted teeth and met with the slightly smiling face of Shana as she clutched the side of her stomach.

Her eyes widened.

Yet another spirit appeared behind the Reaper, a bird with multicolored feathers, flapping under the sun as if it were a rainbow.

"You might have a Gear," The reaper said, proclaiming the homunculus's loss.

It jumped into the pistol as she pulled the trigger.

"But it's not everything."

A blue beam escaped the muzzle—then scattered into countless amounts, lighting the sky with the cry of a bird.

Rose's eyes widened and she moved her body to dodge—

They followed her, overshadowing her in a shield of pulses and pierced right through her body.

Her scream resounded throughout the desert lands. The wind rolled and sand flew against the floor. In no time at all, as blood leaked out of her hole riddled body, she fell down.

A soft touch of warm metal rested against her forehead. Rose raised her emerald eyes, following a boot to meet with the face of the Reaper

"Now." The girl frowned, looking down at her from her crouched position. "Would you mind telling me something?"

Holes scattered her body and she leaked blood.

"What. . ." She spoke, glancing up with a face covered in bloody holes. "What is it?"

The desert was quiet for a moment. She felt the hum of her core, 11% and quickly falling. Pale eyes of hazel stared down at her, squinted.

Shana Striker closed her eyes, fiddling with the pulse pistol in her hand. The memories of a battlefield played within her head. The memories of slaughter, and the memories of her soldiers, the homunculi, risking their life for a country that did nothing for them. Then there was the memories of friendships she had made, and the memories of friendships she had lost. A life on the field had made her value their companionship, even as restricted as they were.

Sitting around a campfire and sipping Rose Tea as each anticipated the battles ahead, merely chatting with one another, troubles, thoughts, jokes, mindless chatter—that was the moment they were most alive. Not when they fought to live, but when they took life in simple moments.

'Reconfigured.'

She thought about that word and what it meant. She had thought she came here to retrieve nothing more than a corpse, but she found a breathing homunculus. A homunculus with emerald eyes that looked at her with fear.

'Reconfigured.'

It was a word all Sol.Series feared. A mishap, a mistake, a slight trace of rebellion, and they would be whisked away—coming back as a fresh template, an individual that was lost. If their bodies broke and they feared the battlefield, reconfigured. If they began to fear their demise, reconfigured. If they ever fell to enemy hands and survived to come back, reconfigured.

Shana Striker opened her eyes and asked a question she wanted to know most.

"Do you think you're alive?"