"Life – the way it really is – is a battle not between Bad and Good but between Bad and Worse." — Joseph Brodsky

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The sound of the truck's container being ripped apart from the sheer force of Alard landing added an exclamation point to the gunfire and screams that ricocheted throughout the area.

Despite the container caving in under his feet, Alard maintained his balance easily, ambling toward the cabin of the truck with newfound confidence.

Alard hung over the side of the cabin just enough so he could peer through the driver's window without falling. In the passenger seat, a man sat slumped over with the remnants of a helmet hanging by a thread, revealing a blood-soaked face. Alard couldn't hear the man's chest rising or falling and he realized with an uncanny calmness that the man was dead.

As a result of him.

There was a distant feeling that the realization of killing his first person should spark some sort of empathic feeling within him; perhaps regret, rage, pride, or at least some form of acknowledgment of the dark milestone. Instead, there was a colossal numbness, as if the act was commonplace.

The driver stirred, weakly turning his head to look at Alard and becoming very shaken when he did see him. This particular Peacock still had his helmet intact, albeit with a crack in the visor. Alard inwardly chuckled at the resemblance of the Peacock's suit to the characters' own on the old game Halo.

The driver weakly reached for his dashboard where his assault rifle lay. If Nessa and the rest had been telling the truth, those bullets within were able to cause him significant harm.

The hostile act killed the numbness that had spread over Alard, spurring him into action. He stuck his hand through the glass, gripping the Peacock by the neck and flinging him back through the window, where he landed face-first face on the pavement.

The man's landing was punctuated with a soft grunt, as he started to writhe in pain. Alard jumped down next to the man, recalling how Jarek and the group had been content to watch when Goatee had laid in a similar position after failing the merge. Unlike them, Alard solemnly ended the man's suffering, repeatedly punching the man in the abdomen until he stirred no longer.

As Alard studied the man's still figure, the sound of a gun cocking caught his attention. He had long since tuned out the sound of gunfire and fighting in the background, but for some reason, his sense of hearing locked in on this particular disturbance.

He located the cause quite easily, his eyes being guided to a lone sniper set up on a nearby rooftop. Alard's enhanced vision allowed him to see even the frown and muttering under his breath of the sniper as he spotted Alard looking at him. Still, the sniper kept his cool and his aim stayed true as he pulled the trigger.

Alard watched in fascination as the bullet throttled toward him, admiring its speed and power as it hurtled onward. He was so busy admiring the bullet that it dawned on him too late that it was just inches away from him...if he was still a human.

His body, almost as if it had a mind of its own, screamed at him to move and without thinking about it, he shifted out of the way at the last possible second, achieving an impossible speed to pull off the feat.

Like before, the act of hostility pissed him off.

How dare the Peacock shoot at him? How dare the Peacock think so lowly of him that a sniper bullet could reach him before he dodged it?

He eyed the sniper who was already repositioning for another shot. Without further hesitation, Alard began to run toward the building, a deep rage bellowing within him that begged to be unloaded on his attacker.

Vengeful thoughts enveloped his brain as he ran forward. He would make the man pay for his sins. He would-

His thoughts spiraled out of control as a sharp pain invaded his back, spreading quickly until his body felt like it was engulfed in a white-hot flame. Through the agonizing pain, Alard discerned that he had been shot in his back and was a sitting duck for continued fire in his current knelt position.

However, his body suddenly refused to cooperate for a precious five seconds which felt like an eternity in the midst of battle. Alard had never been shot before but he was sure that this stunning ability wasn't a usual feature.

Alard tensed up in preparation but a second bullet never came. He felt a large presence looming over him and managed to turn stiffly to face it.

Kenneth held a goofy grin that seemed permanently attached to his face, but his eyes were feral, oozing bloodlust like some canine predator on the hunt. "First lesson, kid; always be aware of your surroundings on a battlefield. The battlefield isn't a fair place where your enemies will wait for you to finish beating their allies, sneak attacks are a common occurrence."

Almost as if to emphasize his point, Alard heard a familiar click as the patient sniper took advantage of Kenneth's turned back, firing off a shot.

Without breaking eye contact with Alard, Kenneth calmly side-stepped out of the bullet's path causing it to land harmlessly in the cracked asphalt. The impromptu example hammered home Kenneth's words. He didn't just focus on his current target with his enhanced senses like Alard had, instead, he spread his tendrils of awareness over a vast area and monitored any threats within it.

It was astonishing to imagine the level of focus and control needed to pull that off while fighting himself.

Kenneth turned to look at the shocked sniper and then back at Alard, a mischievous glint appearing in his eyes as his grin widened. Alard didn't like that look one bit.

"Buckle up," Kenneth said, excitement flowing through his words.

"Wha-"

Kenneth grabbed Alard by his collar before he could react. Planting his foot firmly on the ground he began to spin Alard around his body like a merry-go-round gone wrong. Alard's world turned into a blur as Kenneth quickened the spin, until finally, he flung Alard toward the building the sniper occupied.

Kenneth's superhuman strength alone was something to behold, but with the addition of the momentum he created, Alard went gliding like a jet. For a fleeting second, it felt like he wouldn't make it to the top of the high-rise building but sure enough, Kenneth's aim was true as he slammed right into the stunned sniper.

"STRIKE!" Kenneth yelled with a quick pump of his fist.

When Alard had envisioned flying as a child he definitely hadn't imagined his first flight being as a humanoid dart.

The Peacock sniper rose to his feet slowly, favoring his left side. Alard calmly stood up, the impact from the hard collision having no effect on him. He felt the skin in the area where he had been shot being manipulated, stretching by itself and as a result, the pain dulled to a tolerable volume. He was no biologist but he was pretty sure that his body had just self-healed in a matter of two minutes from a direct shot.

Pretty cool, to say the least.

The Peacock sniper clearly wasn't prepared for the chaotic ball of spontaneity known as Kenneth and as a result, raised his arms in a boxer's stance to defend himself. The act was borderline insane, but a glance at the man's eyes behind his helmet's visor betrayed his fear. He knew his death was imminent in a hopeless battle, but still, he chose to die stubbornly fighting until the end.

The fearlessness in the man's eyes reminded Alard of his father, who had also faced an inescapable death with reckless abandon.

'There's no time for weakness in battle,' The Parasyte within warned as the Peacock charged.

Alard shook his thoughts loose as the Peacock nimbly sent a flurry of punches his way. His speed was impressive for a human, especially considering the suit looked heavy, but for Alard it was like he was moving through porridge. Alard easily dodged each punch, calmly shifting his weight to and fro to weave in between the attacks deftly.

While dodging the frantic attacks of the Peacock, Alard decided to try out extending his sphere of enhanced consciousness as Kenneth had suggested. He focused on splitting his individual senses to more efficiently monitor his surroundings.

It ended up being easier than he imagined. While still evading the Peacock sniper's flailing attacks, Alard began to pick up the sounds of the battle transpiring below. From the sound of it, no more backup was coming for the Peacocks and their numbers were dwindling rapidly.

He risked a few glances in between his evasion, noting that Hayaka seemed a natural fighter judging by the whirlwind of his opponents' blood that trailed behind him. He fought savagely, barbaric even, hammering into his opponents' ranks without mercy or hesitation.

Neresa watched Hayaka fighting from a few paces away, elegantly using the dead body of a Peacock as a seat. Her clothing was undisturbed as if she hadn't fought at all, or rather, hadn't been touched at all, which wasn't hard to imagine with the wind ability she possessed.

Satisfied with how quickly he mastered his new senses, Alard turned back to the Peacock in front of him who had stopped attacking, clearly fatigued.

"Damn monster," the Peacock spat out. "The Earth will breathe easier with your kind exterminated."

"How funny," Alard said, cocking his head to the side, "I could say the same to you."

Alard didn't allow him to respond, dashing toward the man and gripping him by the throat. He lifted him up in the air, feeling an urge to soak in the powerlessness of the man in his grip. The respect that he now demanded by his dominant presence.

Alard shook his head, dispersing the alien thoughts. He wouldn't shy away from killing his enemies to reach his goal but he was determined to not gain pleasure from his acts, especially against the human Peacocks. He had decided to embrace being a Marked but it didn't mean he would give in to being a monster.

He felt a wave of disappointment from within his being and knew it was the Parasyte. Shaking off the Parasyte's odious nature, Alard refocused on the man in his grasp. He squeezed the man's neck with all his might, being rewarded with a satisfying crunch and the man going limp in his hand.

He figured it was a better death than throwing him off the building, at least.

By the sound of it, Kenneth and co. had taken care of the stragglers and now rummaged around in the main truck for the loot. Alard launched himself off of the building, landing behind them with a loud thud. He still hadn't gotten completely used to such a big drop not hurting him.

"Took you long enough," Kenneth commented.

Alard scowled. "Next time do you mind warning me before flinging me up a building?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

Neresa emerged from the truck container with a box in hand and Hayaka followed behind with an advanced-looking rifle in tow.

"Can I at least know what I almost died for?" Alard asked, realizing he had never been informed on the contents of the drop.

"Eh, since it's a B-rank mission it's mostly just information and prototypes that the Underground wants to keep tabs on. Had this been an A-ranked mission, we would've faced much more Peacocks along with Marked officers on their payroll," Nessa responded readily. She pointed to the rifle in Hayaka's hands, "That's a new prototype rifle that they're testing, apparently."

"Let's head back, quickly. I have some manga to catch up on," Kenneth announced, taking the box from Nessa.

Alard marveled at how Kenneth's afro was completely undisturbed despite fighting multiple enemies at once. The creepy wrapped humanoid figure on his back had also stayed strapped in the same position.

Honestly, Alard didn't even want to know what the hell that was.

The group launched off to the rooftops once again, traveling back the way they had come. This time, Alard used his heightened senses to survey the area and take in the surroundings like he hadn't before.

It was the first time he had been to Vrille, much less as close to its heart as they were now, and just like the rumors, it was a ghost town the closer to the heart you were. Signs of past battles decorated the streets with rubble, cracked asphalt, and crumbling buildings. The normies had long since evacuated their past homes as the Underground-Peacock war raged on, rendering their neighborhoods unsafe.

Now, only the rare rogue Marked walked the streets outside of members of either organization, if the rumors were to be believed. It was all well and good considering the group could act without worrying about human casualties, though something told Alard neither side would care much about that anyway.

The Underground did represent the humans in their fight against the government but often their members frowned upon the humans they called normies since they had chosen to stay mortals rather than join their ranks and fight their common enemy together.

It didn't take long for them to reach their destination, traversing at a much faster pace than before since Alard and Hayaka were beginning to get the hang of their enhanced physical attributes.

"Home sweet home," Kenneth cooed as they landed in front of their base.

The 'base' was a modest building that probably served as an apartment in the past but now housed some of the most powerful people in all of Vrille within it.

Bet the landlord hadn't seen that one coming.

Alard studied the building solemnly. It sure didn't produce the warm feeling his old house did, but Kenneth's words rang true nonetheless.

This was home now, and this was a team he was officially a member of. Even after surviving the merge, it was evident that his life would be at risk with each high-ranking mission he got sent out on, yet the thought made him yearn for it more.

The Parasyte within him desired the thrill of battle, that much was evident; but Alard couldn't help joining in on the excitement at the prospect of future missions and battles.

He couldn't wait to see the strength he could reach.

'Vengeance shall be ours.'

Tres

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