Ziun stares down at his hands in apprehension and masked horror. Was.. was whatever this power was in his body really that powerful? 

Blood instantly rushes to his head. 

All noise drowns out as he finds himself suddenly sinking deeper and deeper into the prison of his subconscious at the very damning realisation that he didn't even know who or what he was anymore. 

Not even granted a moment of respite, someone proceeds to fill the stark silence left with Ziun's inactivity with harsh-sounding curses and mad yelling. 

"I'm gonna kill him! I'll fuckin' skin him alive for what he did to Henrie!!"

The film over Ziun's ears falls away as he heard them let out another enraged yell.

.. but from what he could gather of their speech, they sounded much too angry to be completely lucid themselves. 

After awareness returns, it isn't long before he tenses upon witnessing that same—and dangerously angered guard chuck away their ‘gun’ in favour of pulling out a short sword. They take one heavy step towards him, and from that alone Ziun guesses it's them that must've taken that shot at him. 

After all, the rest of them didn't seem nearly put-together enough to have fired anything. 

The reason he suspects this guard in particular, is probably due to the ghost of a presence he sees wrapped around this guards' form. It must've acted as some sort of shield. The physical makeup of which, is almost startingly identical to the force earlier ejected from his own body.

Then.. did that mean his 'power' wasn't something unique to him?

"Fucker!" 

Perhaps because Ziun refused to take any initiative despite his earlier antagonism; the shielded guard releases another mad shout before they make to charge straight at him. The thing is — Ziun just about readies himself for a head on fight with his hands clenched in anticipation, when the guard is suddenly stopped in their steps by an outstretched arm.

"Calm down!" The person who halted them bellows. Out of all of them, their uniform was strangely formed on their person. It sculpts around curves and was melded in areas that were more pronounced than others. The most likely cause for this was — they were a woman. 

It doesn’t change Ziun's opinion of her. But once he'd noticed it, all it did was make her more identifiable among the sea of black that were made up of her and her 'companions'.

"Get the hell—off me!"

"Be quiet." 

And surprisingly — they do.

Sure, her build was slightly smaller than the rest, but the fact of the matter was this: a single arm of hers had immediately stopped that berserker in their steps. Of course, there was also just something about her that Ziun couldn't help but recognise—acknowledge, even—but couldn’t quite pinpoint. It was simply in the way she held herself, and at how her words were less of a suggestion and more like a command...

‘She’s their leader!’ He quickly comes to this conclusion — just in time, too. 

A dense suddenly pressure fills the air. Ziun feels the exact moment his pupils shrink. The difference in the air is obvious; there's a hefty weight that physically weighs him down. His knees buckle slightly and Ziun is sure he would've fully fallen to the floor had he taken her any less seriously—had given her even a smidge less attention and caution. As it stands, he didn't. Ziun manages to hold his ground as the dense cloud of something washes over him and attempts to take ahold of his Will. 

The feeling is utterly repulsive, foreign, and invasive. Ziun very slowly blinks at the cold shiver that raises goosebumps all over his body as it runs its course.

However. 

Beneath it all, a predatory instinct rears its head. Ziun finds himself rather out of sorts as he’s willed into looking for an opening or weakness in her stance. He doesn’t fully understand why or where the feeling comes from, but that seemed to be a running theme for this particular chapter of his life. 

Y'know, all the unanswered fucking questions.

[“Sub—”] 

A tinny whine attracts his attention. Ziun automatically tries to locate the sound, eventually turning his head up and facing one of the speakers in the top corner, snug beside the circular gaze of the camera.

For how high-tech the room's whole set up seemed to be, it was weird that they didn't even try to conceal their monitoring equipment. Did they not care or did they simply not include it as a priority during the allocation of their funds?

Ziun had a hard time believing near-invisible cameras and such didn't currently exist; going by the Guards' armour and the tank he'd woken up in alone — the Main Genre of this world was heavily leaning towards Science Fiction. Which, being as genre-savvy as he was, typically meant; 1. That the tech was so advanced that it was less scientific jargon and more Fantasy reasoning, 2. A romance that had either an academic or army-based setting, with Zerg and/or a random enemy that happened to be from another nation so the author could sneak in some patriotism. Oh and it had an 'obsessive, iceberg ML' who was only kind to the MC because he was 'not like other girls'. Bonus points if it was either an omega or guideverse and they happened to have a previously unforeseen match rate.

.. ahem!

Anyway, moving on..

[“Subdue the patient by any means nece.. ugh—!”] The broadcast echoes with static after a rather dramatic-sounding cry. It ended almost as soon as it began.

Ziun frowns. 

Did they.. die? 

As harsh as it was, he didn't really care what had happened to the broadcaster. Instead what he was worried about, was if the situation up there would bleed down to the room below. Specifically, the one he was currently fighting for his life in.

Ziun did not need any more variables, thanks. 

Unfortunately, due to the untimely interruption, whatever impasse they were at is now broken. Ziun is given no time to think of his next move when it's decided for him in the form of a high pitched squeal. 

Almost like something powering up..

.. In front!

Ziun barely manages to duck in time but even then the gunsman had managed to adjust there aim. They still missed. Instead, what could only be the residue liquid in the area directly behind him explodes in a ferocious ball of loudly crackling electricity.

'Oh my god,' he silently cursed. His chest continued to heave in shock, goosbumps rising as he felt the lightest touch of the cold floor against his muscles with every inhale. That was simply how low he had to crouch in order to avoid injury. 

When nobody else makes an immediate move, he straightens up a little just so he's able to spare a risky a glance over his shoulder to stare at the still-visible sparks bouncing around the liquid coating the glass shards of his containment tank.

‘So it’s conductive!’ He concludes with a darkening expression. He’d long guessed that to be the case, but the reaction was more.. concentrated than he thought it to be. This liquid.. perhaps Ziun could’ve used it to fight against them — had he not still been slick with the stuff. One stray spark from that stun-type ammunition and he was definitely going straight to dreamland.

SQUE—

‘Fuck!’ 

He can’t help but groan the moment he hears that same noise that had given birth to the pool of electric still sparking at his back. His head whips back around, eyes narrowing the moment they lock onto the long, skinny phaser aimed on his person. 

Ziun is still crouched on the ground from when he'd ducked to avoid that first shot. His exposed leg is outstretched, and a single hand firmly placed on the ground to help keep his balance. It's much too vulnerable of a position for him to be in. And to make matters even worse, three out of the four remaining armed guards have their own phasers trained on him, with the ‘berserker’ being the only one unequipped.

Heh, his lip twitched in amusement despite himself. Was that guard embarrassed being the only one waving around a melee weapon? Ziun didn't forget how he'd so passionately thrown his phaser away earlier.

He was most likely regretting doing that now.

“Stand down!” The leader fiercly demands in such a no-nonsense tone that it takes him a moment to realise she was talking to him. 

His eyes widened. 

He was a bit.. surprised to see that she was giving him a way out that didn’t end in violence. However, rationally, there were two reasons she could've done this: 1. Mercy, or 2. She didn’t have the full confidence in her team being able to completely overwhelm him without taking some serious damage. 

Rather than spending the time to further analyse this, Ziun simply says a quiet but succint, "Fuck off." Which effectively cut off any avenue for negotiation. 

Not a second later after he makes his stand — she moves.

‘Son of a—’ 

Out of sheer luck does he spy the sharp glint of metal. He immediately shoots up, waist straining as he attempted to turn out of its projectory. She was fast. More so than Ziun could be at that moment, which had ultimately cost him. 

The knife nicks his side, still managing to slice his skin, but instead of a lethal hit like his head or neck that she was originally aiming for, it’s just a surface cut. The fact that she hadn’t chosen to shoot him tells Ziun that her phaser is, in fact, useless. A quick glance down shows that she’d put it back in the holster strapped to her thigh.

Earlier, immediately after that pulse had left his body, his eyes that were tracking their bodies had also spied a distinct red light flashing on the side of some of their phasers. The light was barely visible but this room and their attire were two singular colours so it was inevitable for his eyes are to pick up the outlier. 

At the time he'd brushed it off, but now that the leader had practically discarded her phaser made him think that whatever 'charge' it once held had promptly shot right down to zero. More importantly though, the assumed sharpshooter’s light was still as blue as Ziun didn’t want it to be — which, there was no way that meant anything good.

“Tt.” 

Noticing his lack of attention, the female guard tuts. She flicks her wrist to twirl the knife in her hand in an attempt to ram the tip of the blade into his stomach, only for the movement to alert Ziun of her intentions. He quickly takes a step back to leave her limited range, except when he does, he hears the telltale sign of that high pitched squealing and dread fills his stomach. 

“Take the shot!” She orders, relentless in her persuit as he continues to dance away from her. He doesn’t understand why she’d given them the go-ahead when she was still very much in her teammates range of fire.

Were they such a good shot that— shit!

Ziun lets out a pained groan. He’d been so reliant on hearing the crescendo of the squealing noise to time its arrival that he hadn't thought it could've been fired earlier! 

‘Fucking—fuck!’  

Ultimately, this small oversight cost him a fully functional leg. The shot had blown clean through his calf, causing him to almost instantly fall to his knees. Rather luckily, this unpredicted damage allowed him to duck beneath a swipe he was pretty sure was aimed, again, right at his neck..!

They really weren't giving him a goddamn inch.

Ziun sucks in a sharp breath as cold sweat begins to drip down his back. He knew it was only a certain amount of time before they overwhelmed him, but.. but he'd thought that he could take them out before it'd get to that point. How arrogant had he been? Now he was seriously injured when he needn't have been, had he just accepted their offer of surrender. He knew entirely too little about his circumstances to be riding solo.

Now look at where his arrogance had gotten him.

[Subdue the patient by any means necessary,] someone had said, and despite being interrupted, it wasn't hard for anyone to decipher what, exactly, they meant to say. From their interference, they had basically given permission to those down in the room to use any amount of force to get him under control. But there was very little Ziun feared and it didn't include dying.

See — violence, he could handle. Very, very well at that. But things like drugs and other foreign substances that could affect his cognition.. that was fear number one. 

Regardless of the very immediate threat in front of him, Ziun feels his gaze drawn to those two "scientists". In his bloodshot eyes they were quickly becoming nuisances. 

The two awkwardly shuffled closer together — as if that would do them any good if Ziun decided to focus his assault on them.

"Hey!" Someone barks. He recognises the voice belonging to that of their Captain. "Where are you looking!" She follows up with a kick, probably aiming to throw him completely onto the floor, but he instead manages to lock her ankle under his armpit instead; her knee tightly clamped in his other hand to further limit her mobility.

"... oof." The move leaves him winded; she was armoured and obviously learnt, after all. It also must've been something she'd expected him to do, because she uses his tight grip as leverage to, in an impressive display of flexibility, twist around and attempt to snake her free leg over his head. 

Was that even possible?! But Ziun can afford little time for his amazement before he sucks in a sharp breath of realisation. 

From what he gauged of her intent, she was probably going for knocking him unconcious by way of slamming him into the floor. 

There wasn't much he could do if it got to that point. He watches as her torse bends to lay her hands on the floor for more leverage. His hyperfocus helps him to react the split second her leg brushes the side of his head, and — he lets go.

.. or, perhaps he ends up throwing her, because rather than the orchestra of crunching glass he was expecting to hear, there's instead a dull thud like something had bodily made contact with another object. Namely, a wall.

Oops? 

Ziun is so flabbergasted that he forgets to no longer put pressure on his wounded calf. 

"Shit!" He hissed through gritted teeth. The pain was almost crippling. Ziun was sure that if he hadn't survived that bastard 'Aaron' then he would've given in and taken the loss. But he had, and suddenly the pain amounts to nothing.

Of course, it's just his luck to not be given a moment of respite.

A shot grazes his shoulder on his next intake of a deep breath. He hadn't even seen it coming. 

.. probably because the shithead was located somewhere behind him. 

'Behind?' His eyes narrow as a thought passes through his head. It's stupid, it's dumber than dumb to turn his back on the raging mad guard who had yet to engage him in direct combat for reasons unknown to him.. but he didn't have a choice. 

Ziun was of the mind that you picked off the weakest link first. Anyone who ever battled knew that. Besides, he pursed his lips at the other guard left in front of him; the sharpshooter who he thought would've been a higher threat level had yet to steady their phaser which hadn't stopped shaking from when he'd tossed their captain aside.

Mind already made up, he sent a taunting, shit eating grin to the easily angered guard, before he swivelled on his feet. 

It was about time he went on the offensive.