The severed head hummed faintly in One's grip.
Its glow had dimmed to a dull, unstable pulse with the pollution leaking from its broken facial disk in thin vapor trails, before dissolving into the heavy air.
One walked several meters from the crater and placed the head atop a fractured slab of concrete to relax his tense nerves before the continuation of the hunt.
The wind shifted but not naturally.
The pollution did not drift in lazy spirals anymore. It pulled inward… then released. As if something, unseen nearby was breathing it in and exhaling it slowly, resulting in the faint vibration of the earth surface due to the pressure and imbalance. The Warframe's internal filtration systems flickered, recalibrating against unseen fluctuations during the process.
Somewhere nearby,
A structure subtly creaked, but no debris fell, thereby successfully escaping the notice of the relaxed One.
The silent environment thickened.
Even the distant mechanical hum of the sanctuary structures felt muted, swallowed by the density at the edge.
One turned and scanned the wasteland stretching outward in fractured silhouettes and skeletal ruins.
The pollution here moved differently now.
Not just thick but disturbed.
It had watched everything.
From the moment the first laser split the air, the recoil of thermal rounds, to the shoulder cannon's detonation and saber's execution.
It stood where light did not reach — pressed flat against the underside of a collapsed structure.
It was terribly thin. About 2.3 meters tall, Its body resembled carved obsidian fused with tree bark — layered, ridged, rough like ancient tree skin turned black. Two small, bead like eyes marked its face, with two large, bat-like ears that twitched subtly.
It did not blink nor breathe in rhythm.
It stood on two thin knife like legs, standing crookedly with a skeleton like frame expanded irregularly. It drew polluted energy through thin slits along its bark-like chest. The energy did not swirl violently like the first creature.
It was settled, Controlled and stored.
Its ears reacted not only to sound but to minute distortions, the scrape of cooling metal on One's armor, the faint hum of recharging energy cells, the microscopic crackle of corrosion spreading beneath damaged plating.
It memorized all the patterns.
The delay between charge cycles. The two seconds stabilization delay before the shoulder cannon discharge. The micro-shift in stance due to rifle recoil.
It learned.
It knew the shoulder cannon required buildup. It knew the Warframe was strongest at ranged attacks.
So it would not give the controller any opportunity to perform range strikes.
Its form blurred, then vanished.
One second, it was there, the next, it was gone.
Even the pollution currents did not cling to it as it moved.
Silently, while rapidly closing in.
One took a step forward.
Then paused.
The pollution density around him shifted.
Subtly.
Like a single drop disturbing still water.
His his instincts honed due to years of Marco's training stirred violently.
The Warframe's intake vents flickered as he adjusted stance.
Behind him—
The air settlement became displaced.
The creature reappeared mid-lunge.
Its right arm had lengthened into a narrow, curved blade of blackened bone and obsidian. The edge vibrated with microscopic serrations.
It aimed directly for the exposed neck seam.
A perfect kill angle.
For any other average mutant, it would have been over.
One twisted instantly, propulsion mid lunge.
The blade grazed his shoulder instead.
Metal shrieked.
A layered sound, grinding alloy, vaporized fragments, brittle cracks spidering outward.
Heat flooded across his right side of the Warframe. Warning lights flared red inside the cockpit.
Armor compromise: 61%.
The creature vanished before it's attack recoil finished it's echo.
One fired blindly, the random shots of Thermal rounds shredded everywhere but hitting nothing.
The air shifted again—
Left.
He pivoted the armour but it was still too slow.
A blade erupted from beneath, slicing across his thigh actuator. Hydraulics ruptured with a violent hiss.
The Warframe staggered.
Armor compromise: 68%.
Mobility impairment: 12%.
The creature did not linger.
It struck again. Disappeared. Reappeared.
It's was as if it was playing with its food before killing it.
Each attack surgical, but at a different angle with terrifying efficiency. Each retreat clean.
The worst part was not the strikes.
It was the silence between them.
No breath, footstep nor friction against debris.
The Warframe's sensors swept in widening arcs.
Nothing, then the pain.
Another slash carved across his upper plating.
Corrosion spread instantly from the armour wound. Blackened veins crawled along the inner armor surface like invasive roots.
Armor compromise: 79%.
The creature was not testing, but dismantling him.
One attempted to bring the shoulder cannon for a locked strike, but the creature reacted instantly.
It materialized above him, legs morphing into twin spear-like extensions, slamming into the cannon housing before it could charge.
Mounting bolts sheared off with metallic snaps. The cannon's aim was successfully diverted towards another angle.
Shoulder cannon alignment: critical error
Armor compromise: 90%.
It had learned.
It would not allow any heavy discharge.
It clinged to the Warframe like maggots on rotten bones, appearing at blindspots with no intention of leaving.
One switched to rifle configuration and unleashed a sweeping barrage.
Again but nothing.
A ripple in pollution.
Then absence.
The next strike came from behind.
A blade pierced partially through back plating, stopping just short of the cockpit.
The grinding intrusion was worse than impact.
The creature withdrew cleanly.
Vanished.
It wanted a one-shot kill at first, but after it's repeated attacks, It deliberately prolonged the fight to dismantle the armour.
Every strike aimed at joints, seams, actuators. It's strikes were never random.
Always lethal.
A horizontal slash fractured his visor.
Cracks branched outward, distorting light into warped segments. The battlefield split into fractured reflections.
The creature reappeared ten meters away.
Still thin. bead like eyes. Still silent.
Its tongue extended slowly.
Then elongated.
Split.
Hardened into twin needle-thin blades. It was a creature that enjoyed tasting the feelings of fear and despair of it's prey before death.
It crouched, then vanished completely.
Not even pollution currents betrayed its presence.
One's instincts pulsed urgently with warning.
Ahead, something was coming.
Fast. Too fast.
His damaged leg actuators struggled to respond. Hydraulics ground under strain.
Time did not slow.
His mind moved rapidly, seeking for a way to survive the desperate situation.
Shoulder cannon disabled. Mobility impaired. Armor critical damage: 98%.
The creature reappeared mid-thrust.
Its entire right arm had transformed into a massive, straight obsidian sword — longer than his torso, razor-thin, perfectly aligned.
The blade made no sound.
It reflected fractured red light across his cracked visor.
The tip aligned with the weakest seam of his faceplate.
No angle to twist. No time to evade.
The blade cut forward in absolute silence.
For the first time,
One did not calculate, nor strategize.
He felt something primal crawl up his spine.
A sudden pressure of death, not pain nor defeat.
But the fear of sudden erasure. He had so much to achieve, more inkforce to absorb, serums to make...He couldn't die here for nothing, it'll be too wasteful. He couldn't accept such a situation. Now he regrets it. Why did he have to hunt these dangerous creatures by himself, he could have just asked Steven to do it. One serum will be enough as a form of payment. All of this were caused by his stubborness and impulsiveness. He gotten a little ahead of himself ever since he learned of his ability to absorb inkforce, thinking he was invincible.
He's already learnt a very important lesson. If he manages to survive today, he'll not make such a stupid decision ever again. Even he, could die in these wastelands. Here, he could also be squashed like an ant, his existence erased and forgotten by the cruel world.
The sword closed the final distance toward his face inside the cockpit.
And in that suspended second, he knew he couldn't dodge it
He was about to be killed.
The blade reached him.