A Red-blood’s dilemma

Present Time

Dira stood in the front of a door, Naria in tow as they looked at each other, their eyes filled with apprehension as the sound of gunfire and distant explosions shook the metallic floors.

"Do we have to do this?"

"Do you want to stab yourself in the neck?" He smiled wryly, scanning the grey metallic door as he tapped his foot impatiently.

Naria giggled, her green eyes glowing lightly as she smiled ever so slightly, her eyes fixed on the red-blood's doll-like face.

"A red-blood scared of compulsion? That's new. Aren't all embodiments of war and destruction immune to compulsion?" She said cheekily, her face filled with amusement.

"And besides, why are we here? Shouldn't we be outside, helping the others?"

Dira sighed, his hand rubbing his white cloak, looking at Naria's clear green eyes for a second, before turning his eyes away, his lustrous black hair dancing on his face.

"We need to hand over our previous assignment to a renator. Apparently, some executive- a herú decided to do it themselves," He continued, Naria's gaze following his every movement as he spoke.

"Also, 'helping' is such a strange word to describe killing humans."

Dira paused, his eyes narrowing as he met Naria's gaze. The shaking seemed to intensify, the light flickering as the fight continued to rage on.

"Besides, It doesn't work that way. A dotãra with high blood purity can still compel me."

"However, It would be difficult." He said lightly, his tone carrying something heavy.

"Oh I see, you're not…" Naria widened her eyes in surprise as she stared at his expressionless face.

"Yes, my mother is...was a human." He spoke quietly. A heavy silence fell, even through the screams of agony coming from outside the facility.

The heavy metal door then creaked open, a tall woman dressed in a white cloak walking slowly towards Dira, her eyes furrowed as they darted between the two renators, her golden eyes examining their features.

Naria shifted uncomfortably, her eyes turning to Dira as he stared back at the woman, their air seeming to , before the atmosphere gained a semblance of calmness, as the floor continued to vibrate in irregular bursts.

"I am Vanya Hargreaves. I am now taking over your assignment as regards Subject 004 and 002."

"002?" Dira said in confusion, Vanya nodding as she looked past him, glaring at nothing in particular.

"Get out there, and put on your battle gear, if you want to. They have these…bullets."

"Why would I ever need battle gear?" Dira scoffed, walking past her quickly as he picked up a sword from the pile and rushed out of the hallway, his steps light.

Zaria floated, about to follow her team leader before Vanya's voice broke her out of her reverie, the sound of her voice deep and resonant.

"I'd advise that you remain on standby, and let the red-blood do what he's born for." She turned to look at her, her deep-set eyes boring into Naria's slender figure.

Naria looked back at the gold blood, a scoff escaping her lips as she spoke, "And what would that be, Miss Hargreaves?"

"Killing. You are a green-blood, Naria. Immortal or not, You are very much killable."

"Joining the IAG was a choice I made, ma'am. I'd appreciate it if you kept your opinions to yourself." Naria said slowly, her hand on the metal door as she made her way into the weaponry.

Vanya smiled, her eyes crinkled as she waved her head, turning her head back to her destination with a smile dancing on her lips.

"Your funeral."

She furrowed her brows, her gaze fixed on the moving curves on Vanya's body, as she walked leisurely into the main facility. _______________________________________________________

The sound of feet tapping lightly on metal resounded through a silent hallway, two figures painting the floor with their shadows. The lights flickered lightly, a boy in a light hospital gown that had clearly seen better days walking slowly alongside a tall woman with a blank look in her brown eyes.

Dried splotches of what looked like dried-up blood covered the walls in their artistic defiance, the shadows dancing erratically as the lights continued to blink.

"What do I call you?" The woman spoke, breaking the silence as her airy gaze landed on the boy.

The boy stopped, turning his head as he looked at her thoughtfully, his head cocked.

"I…don't know. I guess I haven't really thought about it."

The woman walked over to him, placing her head on his shoulder as she looked at the number branded on his chest.

The boy stiffened, his gaze slowly turning to her head, as she spoke slowly, her brown hair rubbing the nape of his neck.

"I'll call you Four. You can call me…Two." She said softly, her eyes gaining focus for a second, before they became unfocused again.

"Why are you so close to me?" He said sharply, moving forward swiftly as he turned to look at her, his face scrunched in confusion.

"You haven't tried to kill me yet." Two said quietly, her brown eyes looking into his golden globes as they continued to stare at each other, the silence heavy and comforting.

The floor suddenly trembled as the lights flickered again, his feet tensing as they suddenly both looked at the floor, their eyes furrowed.

"It's coming from there. Let's go." The girl muttered, before breaking into a mad sprint, the boy widening his eyes as his hospital gown fluttered from the wind. He furrowed his brows, shooting after Two as they danced through the hallways.

His eyes glowed brightly, his body tense as they moved through the hallways as the sounds of screams become louder with every passing turn.

The shrieks became louder, the walls vibrating from the sound that was reverbing through the facility.

"Stop." The girl said suddenly, her hand up as she turned to look at him, her eyes sharp and her voice low as she muttered, "Look."

The boy turned to look at the next hallway, his eyes widening in horror as he watched a young woman's hand tear into a screaming green-eyed man, limbs strewn about as her hand dripped with blood and red tendrils of energy, her white cloak painted exquisitely by the same blood running down the walls.