Catching Cookies from his fall knocked me back a step, though I managed to stand. I held him by his shoulder, hung in shock while the lights glared like floodlights. The wolf-like automatons could jump us now and we’d be good as dog feed, yet they didn’t and remained place investigating.

As if gauging if we’re still a threat and the likelihood of retaliation is likely, I bit my lip while nudging my knee for Cookies to grab his fallen shield and take the initiative.

He’d share an unease look, unconvinced that provoking the wolves is better,

“H-how about we just step back, nice and slowly…” He voices with a meekish tone, I bit my lip. 

“Tch, then leave your shield behind? Take it already.” I whispered, eyeing a pipeline just above the basement gap, “Besides, you’re closer to them aren’t you?”

His eyes widened in disbelief throughout his expression. He didn’t take much to catch the hint that he’d be fed first if things went awry.   

“I-i’m sorry.” He answers with a gulp though I’d be too bothered by the eyes to reply. “On 3, You take the shield and I’ll make sure you’re safe.” I refute. 

The wolves’ ears would perk up, catching onto our schemes. They growl in unison, while one is poised to attack, setting off earlier than expected. 

“Three!” I yelled before shoving the shocked Cookies. “H—Huh?” he trips on the escalated rubble and lands squarely on his shield.   

Due to the “earlier than expected” pounce by one of the wolves. If I’d continued with the count, it’d be too late for either of us, especially him, as he lacked his weapon.  

But willingly serving him to the wolves proved a better idea, given their unnatural size, they could only enter one at a time; compromised as he might’ve been lying right in front of the pouncing wolf, I’m the better suited from afar, and he’d be pointless at a distance.

The first wolf, realizing his prey handed himself on a silver platter would re-adjust with an overhead swing given the deviation in distance, lending me a perfect opportunity.  

“MALWARE PROTOCOL: (TIER 1) CAST STRINGS” 

I fire all strings from all fingers upward at their fastest over the protruded metal pipe I was eyeing earlier and under the wolf’s swinging arm; wrapping on their joint area.   

“Get up already!” I shouted before channeling all my force through my strings to lock the behemoth’s suspended arm, leaving their underbelly open for retaliation, simultaneously blocking the two outside from getting in.   

However, Cookies wouldn’t respond, his entire body shaken and trembling; wasting precious time as the pipe neared collapse from the magnitude of pressure the wolf was exerting on it. 

But he’d stubbornly stay still, clutching his face with his hands anticipating the swing, despite having the chance to step away. 

CRUSH

The pipe squeaked its last bit of air before snapping in two letting the struggling wolf loose from my grasp, it heaved forward, past Cookies, and dropped the weight of its entire body before me.   

Sunken metal paws crush concrete, it leans downward, maintaining strict eye contact with me with killing intent.

My fingers flinch while retracting strings, the mere thought of being mauled made my heart skip a beat— yet a familiar surge of restlessness spread throughout my body. 

Thoughts of engaging these things itched my foot to step forward— I wanted to fight, I could take them on— simultaneously infuriating yet amusing at once.

Such impulsivity has already been tested before, yet shrugging them off my mind is just as hard. Maintaining a leveled head, I’ll just have to keep playing safe, even if I’d have to use those around me. 

On the one hand, it’s good they’ve left the kid alone, but now I’m left dealing with this myself. 

I step back, using my string as a barrier between me and it— without the first wolf, the second and third will surely follow, right?

Before the other two could enter, the wolf before me would have their ears perk, before turning their gaze outside. 

BLAM BLAM

Two gunshots would ring out, followed by the scattered footsteps of the wolves outside, leaving the sole aggressor with me.

Unsurprisingly, as they say, “birds of a feather flock together” the wolf— at threat of being left behind— had no choice, it’d growl at me before turning its back and running back the way it came.  

I sighed, yet this isn’t over, on the contrary, the wolves barred only fangs and teeth, while the one outside is armed.  

A player? God forbid if I’m up against that same rocketeer from before— dead set on putting me in my place six feet under. 

I inched my way forward; each step like threading on eggshells. Cookies on the other hand remained as stiff as a statue with death-like paleness, his closed eyes seemingly accepting its fate. He was no doubt panic-stricken but such overreactions are too much.  

I grasped his shoulder and shook his world to reality while keeping my noise to a minimum, as troublesome footsteps encroached from outside.  

“Don’t you faint on me, hold it together.” I muttered slowly, adding emphasis to each word said.  “A-ah…!—” His face pale-white— as if a ghost kneeled before him— I muffle his mouth to stifle his scream.    

“Who’s down there?!” Yelled a ruffed man from above, having heard Cookies’ sudden utterance. 

We faced the end of his rifle before I’d pulled us out of sight, eclipsing the glimpse of light beyond. 

A man points his loaded weapon at us, with a shaky finger hovering right beside the trigger.  

With his gaze fixed, he repeats his question “Who are you two?!” He yells; his voice having a strange distorted effect.

“I’m Malware and he’s Cookies, we’re aspiring trackers of Nueva Esperanza,” I explained while cupping the boy’s gradually warming face.  

In his confusion, the man would reveal his face to show two vivid red lights for eyes. Composed entirely of metals and circuits— like Capitan— he wasn’t a person in a natural sense, but what constitutes a person doesn’t matter in a bizarre situation like this. 

“What’s that? Do you know what happened around here?” He questions, keeping a firm grasp on his weapon. 

I shook my head, In retrospect, bringing up “trackers” might not have been the best idea, Nueva Esperanza may have enemies outside. 

Besides that, based on his battered patchwork of a body, between us, he’s the “older” one; the one who spent more time here than me at least.  

“N-no, unfortunately not sir, we were cornered just now but you saved us,” I reply, feigning my bemusement to lessen his disappointment.  

The man frowns, realizing he’d best avoid asking big questions, leaving it at that and asking answerable questions this time. “Is he hurt?” he asks; a tinge of concern heard from his distorted voice.

“Almost, but you saved us in time,” I answer on Cookies’s behalf while pulling him up his feet.  

“Come with me then.” He remarks before lowering his rifle and motioning his head upwards and beyond somewhere in the pit. 

Cookies sighed, relieved that the situation hadn’t soured, but perhaps in his exhaust lost that sense of enthusiasm after our first encounter.   

He’d clumsily pick up his shield after I passed him and fastened his pace to catch up, after returning to his senses, he’d touch my arm, luring my eyes back at him. 

“I’m sorry...  Malware.” He mutters weakly while ascending the basement pit, I sigh, “It’s alright, it could’ve gone worse, but.” I stop in place, snapping my eyes towards the front. 

He staggers back, parroting my action before I’d speak. 

“If you do that again, you won’t be so lucky, got it?” I demand, hoping to drill some proper nerves into his senses. 

These things we’re dealing with, they’re ruthless, unwavering, entities of metal. They’re here to kill us, nothing more, nothing less. I can’t even call them soulless, because they can think, feel, and seethe. 

If they can hate, maybe they have souls of Malice, but I’m not the spiritual type, convincing me that this place is some sort of simulation is likelier than calling it an “afterlife.”   

If they’re that sure about killing us, then so should we, doubts and hesitations be damned. I don’t deserve to die because of someone hesitating like that. 

He swallows his throat before answering, “Okay…” he answers sincerely.

Ascending the rubble, we stumble upon a one-of-a-kind creation, catching me off guard. 
“How did you find a van?” I asked, pointing at his vehicle. “Well, you two, you’re helping me out, consider it your “pay-back” for what I did for you two.” 

Back at Nueva Esperanza, shortly after Firewall and Intel Departed, two figures were called soon after by Capitan. 

Holding the two mission tabs in his hands, his eyes run down the seasoned red-scarfed sniper and an akimbo pistol-wielding sheriff. 

The Capitan would hold a more dignified and straightforward demeanor as the pair approached. 

“I’ll keep the briefing short, these missions are currently handled by your juniors, make sure they come back safe and sound.” He explains, before shoving the respective mission tabs onto theirs.  

“Easy ‘nough, consider it done boss” He chuckles,  “Your brother is a smart one, I like him.” Capitan compliments, but not before the sheriff impatiently tapped her heel.

“You said they’re tracked by their antennas, that’s all I need.” Spoke the unbothered sheriff, “I entrust you’ll catch up, they’re a distance away.” Capitan answers.  

After getting the approval she needed, the sheriff would walk away without a word.

“There she goes again without a word.” “I’m used to it, but, she does remind me of someone…” “You mean that girl?” And Capitan sighs

10:00 AM, 9 Kilometers, inside the man’s van, I took the passenger seat while Cookies opted for the back, while the guy on the wheel was chatting away his life openly like a freshly cleared storm drain sucking all the accumulated flood water on the road. 

Given his posterior you’d assume he’d be rightfully distrustful, yet once we exchanged names he went all in, sharing his name and life details. It felt too easy, as if lulling us to trust him, although I’d sense desperation more than  

His name is Randall, a commute driver before this “rapture” struck, he referred to it as much. His family wasn’t as fortunate and now he’s on his own… 

If it was up to me, he had no reason to be a variant— possessing all the qualities of a unit— yet why wasn’t he “gifted” Eden’s Protocols? He’s missing something that separates him from us, but I can’t deduce what.  

“The reason I needed you two, is because I need help.” He demands, with unbothered eyes he firmly stares at the road ahead.   

“Help for what sir?” Cookies spoke up from behind, sitting primly on the back catching on that he was holding a burden.

“Only you two human-looking things can fight these things, my rifle won’t do good.” He mutters, commenting about his shortcomings.

“If you’re looking for fighters, I can request one and he’ll answer—” I suggest, before being boldly cut off.

“No, you don’t have to, we’re running short on time.” He replies, his words holding a weight of urgency.

Cookies’s eyes would perk up and asks, “Is someone in danger?” Randall sighed, shaking his head— troubled by the fact he’s right. “Right’o, you’re sharp kid, glad you’re with me.” 

“I owe her for “waking” me.” He sighs, before adding “Even when the world turned to shit, It felt like I was on auto-pilot and kept doing the thing I “should” be doing like everyone else.” He explained, shivering from his seat. 

“You kept doing your thing, before “she” helped you?” I asked, intrigued yet not completely convinced. 

“She broke me out of it, telling me she wanted to hop on my van and I let her.” He explains, sending more questions than answers in my head. 

I panned my head at him, giving him a confused look. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t really talk about that right now—” He rebuts, before we catch two towering spires in the distance, before unveiling as smoke pillars of an antiquated factory. “Right there, over the horizon, see that factory?” He asks.

He shakes his head, “After running this thing for hours, I checked the van in case It needed fixing, and she just…” His voice trails off, and the silence says the rest.  

“Went in?” I answer for him “Of course! And I tried to get her myself, but—” “Those things tried to thrash my van, and I had to protect it first” He reasons. 

“Tch, talk about priorities” I snarked, eyeing out the window and onto the rapidly growing factory. “For God's sake, that’s why I’m coming back, she’s the only family I have.” 

“Y-yeah, I understand Sir, If I had a family I’d fight for them as hard as I can” Cookies agrees “That’s right!"

I sigh while keeping track of our distance, which now signals that we’re on our mission ground. 

Now that “Randall” seems to know a little more about the world than I do, I guess I’ll play along, this counts as “scouting” by our mission directive anyways.