THUD! THUD! THUD!
Heavy footsteps echoed from the stairwell, but these weren't the inhuman gait of demons. Arthur's hearing picked up whispered conversations, the shuffle of exhausted humans climbing toward what they hoped was safety.
There is survivors coming here...
"Up here! There are survivors. A woman's voice carried through the corridor, desperate with hope.
Arthur's photon weapon continued its deadly work, energy beams carving through the latest wave of defective demons.
ZAP! ZAP!
Two more creatures dissolved into smoking husks.
Eleven shots left.
The stairwell door burst open, admitting a flood of humans that transford the hospital floor into chaos.
dical staff holding surgical equipnt as weapons, security guards with empty weapons—all of them seeking sanctuary that didn't exist.
Damn it, they just complicated everything. There will be no place to move with them here. And if the demons are attracted to numbers, they just made everything worse.
"Oh my God, they have weapons!" A young nurse pointed at Arthur's photon rifle with trembling fingers.
The crowd pressed forward, driven by desperation and the promise of protection. Arthur found himself surrounded by pleading faces, grasping hands, and voices raised in panic.
"Please help us!"
"The demons are everywhere!"
"We lost so many people getting here!"
And now you're my problem.
Gates fired another burst, his shoulder wound seeping crimson blood through the bandages. Each recoil sent visible spasms of pain across his features, but his aim remained steady.
He's losing too much blood.
"Sir!" One of the arriving group, a maintenance worker by his uniform, spotted Gates's injury.
"That man needs dical attention!"
No shit.
Arthur sideglanced at the movent through the overcrowded space.
There were too many bodies, too many variables and too many ways for things to go wrong.
Coordination becos impossible.
One of the survivors—a middle-aged man in a torn business suit—pushed through the crowd toward Charlotte's room.
His eyes held fear as he didn't want to remain in the overcrowded corridor.
Arthur's eyes caught movent to his left, where Charlotte's room was, and his eyes widened in anger and rage.
This BASTARD! What does he think he is doing?
Arthur's boot connected with the man's chest before he'd taken three steps.
"ARGHH!" The man scread as the impact sent him sprawling across the floor, gasping for breath, he couldn't find.
"What are you doing?" The man wheezed, looking up at Arthur with confusion that quickly transford into recognition.
The man's face went pale as he realised he had been kicked by arguably the most well-known person on the planet currently. The black hair, the aura, the face—pieces clicked into place like a puzzle solving itself.
Fateless. The man from the viral videos.
"I'm sorry! I didn't an—I was just looking for—"
Arthur's eyes held depths that made the man's voice die in his throat. When he spoke, each word carried the weight of absolute authority.
"I don't care. Nobody enters that room."
Charlotte's sanctuary. It was non-negotiable for Arthur, and anybody who dared to enter after his warnings should only bla themselves for what happened next.
"If anyone enters that room, don't bla for what happens to you. I'm warning you all!"
Crystal clear.
Arthur turned back to the window, dismissing the man's existence with indifference. His photon weapon resud its deadly work, energy beams painting the shattered glass with brilliant light.
WHOOOM! WHOOOM!
The crowd of survivors pressed against the walls, finally understanding the dynamics at play. This wasn't a safe zone; it was a war zone where their survival depended entirely on staying out of the way.
At least they aren't getting in the way.
Gates stumbled slightly, his wounded shoulder sending fresh blood down his arm. Each shot from his weapon caused visible pain, but he refused to stop firing.
"Gates!" Arthur called without taking his eyes off the demons. "You need to sort your shoulde—"
"I'm fine!" Gates's protest ca through gritted teeth. "Just need to—"
CRACK!
A photon beam went wide as Gates's shoulder spasd, the energy blast scorching ceiling tiles instead of finding its target.
He's fully compromised; he is missing his shots with the auto-aim system in the weapon.
One of the survivors stepped forward, a young man in his early twenties with a lean build only gained by athletes.
His clothes were torn and bloodied, but his expression carried confidence that spoke of soone who'd survived hell to reach this point.
The stranger had dark hair and intelligent eyes that assessed the situation with surprising competence. Unlike the other survivors who cowered against the walls, he moved toward Arthur and Gates.
"Sir," the young man addressed Arthur directly.
"Your partner's losing too much blood. Let take his position."
He is quite ballsy, approaching mid-combat.
Arthur's mind stored the details automatically. The stranger's stance suggested that he had so sort of combat training. Otherwise, he would've been like the others, cowering behind them and not engaging on the front lines.
He might be able to take Gate's position whilst he rests and gets dical attention.
Gates fired another burst, his aim becoming increasingly erratic as blood loss affected his coordination.
ZAP! ZAP!
One shot found its mark, the other went wide.
He's done. That's it.
"I can shoot," the young man continued, his voice steady despite the chaos surrounding them.
"I've had training in shooting ranges. I know how to handle weapons, even though this one looks like a laser gun, but it should have the sa chanics."
Arthur's decision took microseconds. Gates was losing blood by the second, and fresh hands ant better firepower distribution.
"Gates, fall back."
No room for argunt.
Gates started to protest, his pride warring with obvious physical limitations. "I can still—"
"No." Arthur's tone brooked no discussion. "You're bleeding out and missing shots. Fall back, get dical attention."
"You're bleeding out and missing shots. Fall back, get dical attention. Just let these two minutes pass by, then everything will be fine."
Save the heroics for when we're not dying, Gates.
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