(Author Note: Sorry for the delay college is out to get me)

I arrived early to the rendezvous point before Myers, so I began scanning the area with my dread rifle's scope.

I could see some lights in the distance, but I couldn't get a clear view due to the trees. However I could tell that there were at least 2 trucks and 3 tanks. Their lights all lit up like fireflies in the night.

"Humans don't usually patrol like this anymore, what you have must be really valuable to them." A familiar dissonant voice began to speak to me.

I scoff in return. "You sure are noisy when you don't need to be."

"I am also useful when I need to be." There was a hint of pride behind that statement.

"Sure, but maybe that's what we want to believe, in the end you're just some ghost in my head."

He didn't bother to reply anymore.

Whatever, his voice was getting repetitive and somewhat annoying at this point, I would have given his words more thought until I felt a tug on my shoulder.

"Grim, I'm here."

Myers' M.T. stood beside me, its maroon armor blended perfectly into the autumn shadows beneath the pine canopy. We were similar in height but he was slightly shorter with a leaner frame.

He had a rogue-like build with his armor being thickened around the shoulders and torso, while the limbs were kept lean and flexible. It was a standard configuration for duel-type M.T.s designed for fast, close-quarters combat.

His helmet matched the design philosophy, it was more angular to cut through winds at high speed, and it looked more hound-shaped than mine. I heard our human allies found it quite unsettling up close.

I crouched, with my rifle steady in my arms, and angled my visor toward him.

"Three tanks. Two trucks. No sign of Callers—yet."

"We wait for their report, then?" he asked.

"Yeah in five minutes, maybe."

Myers turned towards the distant specks of light and crouched as well.

"Mind if we talk about things to kill some time then?"

I paused from looking at my scope for a moment to process his words, this didn't seem like the usual Myers.

"Talk about what exactly?"

It took a while for a reply to come out but he eventually came out of his shell.

"Look, I'm no philosopher… better yet a human, but I've always wondered if being one was harder than being a Noctian"

I was caught off guard with such a distant topic. "You really want to talk about being human…before we plan on killing them?"

"No… it's just—" Myers lowered his gaze to his bloodied hands. "Humans… they can't stay in the dark. But we… we can, right?"

"Yeah,"

"But somehow they live their lives normally anyway. But we… we don't get that. So what do you think is better?" He paused, voice heavy with thought. "To stay in the light, afraid of the dark your whole life, not knowing what to do… or to stay in the dark, knowing your purpose, even if it costs you everything?"

I remained silent, unable to answer his outlandish question. What was more important to me was how he could even form these thoughts in the first place?

Before I could reply, a system prompt forced itself in my eyes.

<DISTORTED COGNITION DETECTED: SUBJECT MYERS, GRIM>

<NOTICE: DEVIATION FROM FAILED MISSION PARAMETERS WILL RESULT IN TERMINATION>

"Ah, Damnit" Myers seemed more down than annoyed.

"Did those soldiers in the last outpost put those thoughts in your head?"

Myers let out a short chuckle "No..but I just realized I must've been one hell of a writer before, anyway back to business before we accidentally kill ourselves."

<STATUS: WITHIN EXPECTED PARAMETERS>

While we watched the flickering lights in the distance, a panel on Myers' chest slid open. He pulled out a heavy smoke grenade and held it out to me.

"Take this. In case you need it later."

"Copy."

I took it and secured it inside my own chest compartment.

Patrol lights cut through the trees ahead of us. As they drew closer, silhouettes of Geoffrian soldiers came into view; they were about twenty, maybe thirty strong.

Most wore black leather trench coats and faceless steel helmets that sealed their expressions away with AK-32s held close to their chests. A few heavy gunners stood apart, they had bulkier silhouettes as they were wrapped in layered steel armor, with light machine guns hanging ready in their hands.

But at the edges of the light, something moved. Black, tar-like matter clung to the ground, stretching upward as black hands pushed through its surface, their fingers clawing toward the soldiers waiting for a moment when the light faded.

"Grim how copy?" Pilsen's signal suddenly came through.

"Loud and clear"

"Multiple patrols here, two maybe 3 dozen men with heavy artillery."

"Copy that Pilsen, proceeding with the plan."

I stand up and face towards Myers and slot my rifle at my back. "Execute the plan."

Myers grabbed his dull and bloodied dual blades from his back. I could feel his excitement from my pod as he readied to engage. "Roger that."

He crouched low with his thrusters flaring at full capacity. Sparks of electricity and heat rippled through his armor, singeing the grass and scorching the tree trunks near him. In a heartbeat, he lunged toward the patrol, like a predator closing in on its prey.

I wasn't built like him. I had to crawl through the forest, pushing every accentuator and brake to the limit, calculating each movement to avoid smashing into a tree. Moments later, distant gunfire cracked, accompanied by the panicked screams of soldiers and a massive fifteen foot shadow streaking at impossible speed.

"METAL TERROR SPOTTED!" a soldier screamed with his voice ragged with phlegm.

"STAY IN FORMATION! LET THE TANKS ADJUST THEIR AIM!" another voice barked.

The soldiers dropped into crouches beside their tanks and trucks and opened fire on Myers while others scattered nearby into the trees, with their muzzle flashes stuttering through the forest.

Myers did not even turn toward them. Instead, he reached for a nearby pine and wrenched it from the earth with extreme force, its roots groaning as they began to rip apart. Then, with a single, effortless motion, he hoisted the tree overhead and hurled it toward the nearest tank.

The impact thundered through the tank like a battering ram and by the time I arrived, the pine was already impaled deep into the tank's hull with flames bursting from its torn metal. Though the relentless gunfire still poured in from all directions, every bullet that had struck Myers's thick armor ricocheted harmlessly away.

Their resistance collapsed into panic as they realized the futility of their rifles, and in that moment of hesitation Myers casually strolled into a cluster of soldiers and butchered six men in an instant.

Desperation had begun to claw its way through the enemy ranks and I knew I had the advantage to further stoke the flames of madness into them.

As the chaos unfolded, I positioned myself directly behind one of the tanks, approaching close enough to feel the heat rolling off the tank's engine with the dense forest as my cover.

They hadn't spotted me yet however, I needed to act fast as its sights had already been adjusted towards Myers.

With a single fluid motion I unsheathed my weave blade's hilt, it had no steel blade but the moment I clasped it tightly, a red energy roared its blade into existence.

With a swift strike from behind, the second tank's rear plating screeched and buckled. My blade sliced through its armor like butter. Soon after I struck, fire and sparks erupted from inside, the crew's screams drowned as an explosion ensued from within the tank turning it into scrap metal.

"SHIT! ANOTHER ONE—!" Another soldier screamed as the burst hit him from behind, toppling him to the ground.

The shout's noise was smothered as another soldier emptied his rifle into me at point-blank range, but his rounds merely sparked and flattened against my armor. I stepped forward and brought my foot down on him.

His bones shattered like dry twigs beneath me along with his organs which popped within his body, leaving nothing but a pool of mangled organs barely escaping my foot.

The other soldiers froze at the macabre sight, some vomited, others turned pale, their morale was shredded by the sound of his gruesome death.

Using their paralysis as my momentum. I swept my blade through the group of battle shocked soldiers firing at me.

My weave blade's edge passed through their flesh effortlessly, cauterizing their bodies as their halves parted mid-scream. Their innards and viscera swept against the trees as their blood mist the air and soaked the forest floor.

A nearby truck witnessed the slaughter and tried to reverse its gears but as its driver whined in panic it crashed into the burning tank as it tried to escape.

"Leave it," Myers said, "That's the one we use for later."

I nodded and looked down at the humans beneath me. Their faces were all frozen, shaking, or drowning in terror.

"D-dear Fria… p-please save me—" One of the soldiers cried out. His prayers somewhat annoyed something within me. Before I even willed it, I had already grabbed him by the head and crushed his skull like a grape with his warm brain matter spilling like juice within my palm.

Despite the horror, the other soldiers still remained unfazed by this, three heavy gunners began shooting at me with their higher caliber bullets which could rupture my outer plating so I raised my blade to strike—

BANG!

A tank fired somewhere hitting Myer's torso sending him flying towards the forest, the impact of the shot shook the ground.

Heavy machine-gun fire followed, its fire rate was unnaturally high. Noticing the danger, I immediately retreated deep into the forest; however, multiple rounds had already grazed into my shoulder, tearing some of my shoulder plates free, exposing my Hollow's grey skin. But it still wasn't finished, above the tank, a yellow sigil formed twisting lightning into the shape of a missile.

FWOOM! FWOOM! In an instant, two lightning bolt missiles flung themselves towards me and Myers.

Luckily enough, Myers had already escaped into the darkness, however the missile's blast detonated near us, its electricity flooded my systems forcing me to restart.

My motors seized, countless warning feedback began screaming through my frame, blaring into my HUD. By the time control returned the tank had already loaded its next shell.

BANG! Another shot was flung towards me, luckily enough it missed and exploded nearby as I hid behind a tree.

"A Scripted Tank. Unlucky." I muttered under my breath

I switched to comms.

"Move on the tank. I'm taking position."

"On it."

I slung my rifle forward and fired a single round into the tank I destroyed, to rupture the remaining shells inside. After the shot, a second explosion bloomed further suffocating the forest with thick pulses of black smoke which opened a small door of opportunity for Myers.

As the tank was trying to scout for his position through the smoke, Myers had already burst from the shadows— and stopped.

An invisible force near the tank had caught him mid-flight, freezing his M.T in an awkward position.

"Th-this thing has a shield!" Myers panicked as other soldiers caught wind of his blunder.

Without wasting a moment, the remaining soldiers opened fire, pouring all their rifle and machine gun rounds into him with sections of his armor beginning to dent inward and break off.

They followed up their offensive with two RPG strikes which streaked in from behind and detonated near his pod, tearing his storage compartments loose whilst disabling his movement thrusters. Exposed gaps into his hollow began to appear as bullets rained from all sides. It began crying out in distorted, mechanical agony.

"I—I'm losing control! Grim! A little help?!"

I dropped to one knee and calmly braced my rifle.

"Use twenty-five percent of core energy on the next shot," a guiding, dissonant voice chimed in.

"I know."

I exhaled, centered the scope on the tank's weak point, and fired.

The round flew, wrapped in blue lightning. It slammed into the tank's shield—stopping dead for half a second.

The energy within the bullet began to violently surge, bright streaks of thunder began overloading the tank's runes, it held on for a moment until it shattered like broken glass, allowing the bullet to barely punch through and dent it.

Myer's stasis was immediately broken and his initial momentum drove his blade straight down into the tank's head, his blade cleanly stabbing through it triggering a domino effect from within. Fire and metal rained down from the ensuing explosion, shredding the surroundings into ruin.

The humans began to panic, some of them stumbling backwards as they tried to flee. Some of them tripped into the burning wreck, sizzling their skin, screaming as undying flames ate through their uniform. Others froze in place in horror, with their eyes wide, still unintentionally gripping their gun's triggers.

Ignoring them, I drifted toward the crashed truck like a stray shadow. I peaked into the cargo bay where several soldiers huddled inside and frozen in place. Without looking back, I fixed my gaze on a darker stretch of forest and tore the roof of the truck open, its metal shrieked as I peeled away. I immediately seized the struggling men, pulling them into an inescapable grip.

One of them met my eyes, tears cutting through the grime on his face."W–what are you going to do—"

As I turned toward the darkness, understanding dawned on him. His breath hitched.

"Th–they're—" he stammered, voice breaking as he began to scream with such raw and primal fear."THEY'RE GOING TO TURN US!"

The soldiers struggled with everything they had, their limbs bled and fractured from punching and kicking my metal hands but it did not matter, as I approached the darkness the curse of humanity had already begun its work. Their flesh and bone began to burn as their skin began to rot and disintegrate.

Their harrowing screams began to stretch into unnatural pitches as their limbs contorted then disappeared from existence, slowly but surely their bodies slowly became something incomprehensible.

In mere minutes, the soldiers I had held ceased to exist as humans. Their incorporeal shapes extended and diminished, as if to copy the concepts of the forms they once had, hollowing their anatomy into anomalies that made no comprehensible sense, turning them into displaced phantoms that were stains on the world of normality.

They had become Errata, the errors of the world.