Miles Riverbend
"Hurry and leave!" demanded Touya.
Miles hesitated, struck by the gravity of those words. The Beast Slayer had never considered that the therian would take his suggestion to heart. Overriding his guilt with the necessity to live, Miles nodded solemnly at Touya.
“Never a dull moment, huh? Good luck therian,” he said, throwing a smirk on for show. It was the last time he expected to see the courageous refugee. Snapping into action, Miles sheathed his own sword and ran over to Damea. “Corporal! Help me carry this man! And you don’t complain or make this any harder than it already is.”
Responding with unnerving swiftness, John materialized out of the shadows, side stepping the hybrid so as to avoid its lethal attention. The man’s cross bolts had been all but spent in the ensuing battle, reducing him to a pair of combat knives. To Miles’ chagrin, John paused midway to crouch over the corpse of Bastionne. The Jaeger Guard muttered a few words of respect before jerking the dog tag free of his superior’s neck and hurrying over to assist him in lifting the mercenary’s weight.
“A good man,” John said, pocketing the name label.
“Empire rests his soul. Now, unless you want to join him, I suggest you haul arse faster,” Miles grunted, hefting Damea from under his shoulders.
Without responding, John shifted himself down to lift Damea up by the knees in a fore-and-aft position. “Secure?”
“Solid! Let’s go!” Miles confirmed, adjusting his arms to steady his grip. The Beast Slayer spared one last glance over his shoulder, glimpsing a brilliant flash of yellow light and the ominous black shadow of the monster. They were two sides of the same coin, almost.
Starting down the hallway, John navigated through the simple corridor. Their objective was an alternate route which existed by the north wing, and seeing as the hybrid was currently blocking any entrance into the lobby, it was their final alternative. They took a left, jogging swiftly into a ribbed hallway. Miles noted how the wall panels surrounding them looked battered and old despite the recent dereliction. Only a week ago this building would have been bustling with activity.
“How much further?” Miles asked, agitated to escape the suffocating premises. Getting outside of the building was only part of the problem given their discovery. Thankfully Havoc had the foresight to plan numerous routes of bypassing likely security. Of course, it also helped they were technically on home turf.
“Just at the end of this hall, a window should lead into a side alley,” John informed, reciting the path off memory.
Abruptly, Miles felt the impact rather than heard it. In response, the wooden beams overhead shivered, shaking dust onto their heads. Contemplating the cause, they all paused in unison.
“Sounds like something cut into the building’s structure, again,” John remarked, directing a cautionary gaze around at their surroundings. Both men knew that could have only been caused by one thing.
Concerned that the roof could collapse at any point, Miles looked up in tow and frowned. “Do you reckon you can carry Damea alone?” he asked, not bothering to consult the mercenary for his opinion.
“Sir?”
Miles assisted John in moving Damea into a firefighter carry, leaving the injured mercenary over the Jaeger Guard’s shoulders. “Call it a whim, don’t wait for me,” Miles winked.
Turning the other direction, Miles began sprinting back the way they came, praying the hybrid would be finished before he arrived. What he discovered upon reaching their previous position left him in utter disbelief. Discretion turned to amazement as he stumbled past the quiet remains of the hybrid, eyes wide. The surgical wounds and grafting remained, as firmly etched to its skin like knots in a plank, but the cuts and bolts were gone without trace. Even Bastionne’s head wound had vanished. Miles tip-toed past, uncertain if the monster was simply playing dead and unwilling to test the fates.
“Touya? You there?” he hissed.
Not far off, Touya’s unconscious form lay just beyond the hybrid, clumped up against the wall.
“A few broken ribs, for both of them,” Reginald muttered, reading the words off a checklist. The doctor had only just completed his physical examination of Touya. Damea, though still conscious, hardly fared any better than the therian and was currently resting in the adjacent bed.
Welcoming the gentle warmth offered by the hospital room’s interior, Miles leaned back in his seat, letting the tension slip out of his shoulders. Not so unlike the first room that Reginald used to restrain Touya, the key difference was a noticeably lack of magic inhibitors and metal bindings. “Skin of our teeth Havoc, it was that close.”
Reginald gave Miles a certain look, as if the medic was on the verge of saying something important before sighing. “I’ll read the report tomorrow,” he waved. The details could come later, but Reginald’s chief concern was determining how exactly the faceless managed to defeat the hybrid. “You’re certain about what you saw?”
Miles gave a tired shrug, “It looked like it just healed up then dropped dead. I did jokingly suggest trying to healing it…but I had no idea the therian was capable of such a feat, let alone if that’s what he even did.”
"I've seen him use it before. Anyway, he needs rest for now. There'll be time for questions later," Reginald said, "However, do you mind stepping outside? I have something important to tell you. Something about your family."