The sword-bug came at me again. I dodged its first strike as it embedded a blade into the floor. I got three slashes in at its arm and managed to slide Ebon into one of the horizontal slits in its head. The thing reeled back and brought its other claw to its face. Orange fluid pumped from the opening. I’d found a weak spot.
It saw me coming in for another strike and turned its head to the right. I missed the other eye slit but took a gouge out of its helmet before I danced away as the creature thrashed its bladed arms. I would have been having fun if I wasn’t in a hurry to rejoin my team. It was a shame I didn’t have the time to draw the fight out. I could learn so much by fighting the Xeno knights. I made a mental note to find a scientist to study any Xeno my team managed to capture in the future, solely for our military purposes.
The mace-bug lowered its head and charged around the other who raised its blades above its head and moved to its left to cut off my escape. The other bug raised both its bladed arms above its head and made for me. I saw their trap coming again and instead of jumping or dodging, I caught the mace-bug, planted my feet, arched my back, and flipped it over my head, a feat I couldn’t have achieved before the Lakunae.
The sword-bug saw me look to my sword and stepped in front of it while still coming at me, so I immediately drew my pistol and fired, just as the mace-bug crashed into the wall behind me. I didn’t have time to see if I’d impaled it on one of the horns, but I did hear fragments of something crashing to the ground.
Meanwhile, my shot had only left a scorch mark on the sword-bug’s face. I fired three shots at its leg with the same effect. Then, it was almost on top of me.
I rotated my grip on my pistol, repositioning the slide against my forearm, and blocked its first strike. The bug was powerful, and my arm ached after the impact, but the gun held. The creature’s second strike was low. I jumped, only to realize its trick a moment later when its arm-blade stopped, rotated and lurched upward between my legs. I squatted, held my pistol below my groin, and took a hard hit that knocked me an inch into the air. But the bug was close enough for a counter.
I punched it in its face and sent it sprawling onto its back. A skittering behind me told me the mace-bug was moving again, so I dove forward into a roll, heard the woosh of air where my head had been, and retrieved Ebon before I rose back to a standing position.
The sword-bug was moving again, so I charged the mace-bug, feigned an attack from the right, and dropped to my knees as I slid between its legs. I took two swings at its right leg as I passed. The slashes had little obvious effect. The bugs were tough.
I spun, raised Ebon to a high defensive posture, and noticed something curious. My last movement had left the bugs barreling toward each other, and both were skittering and scrambling to avoid a crash. They wanted to hurt me, I realized—but they were also worried about hurting each other.
I could make use of this.
The sword-bug held the other back with an outstretched arm and the back of its left blade. I took the opportunity to test the strength of its weapon against my own and was stunned when Ebon hit its sword-like appendage and vibrated like a bell in my hands.
Both creatures lunged in to make an attack, glanced at the other, and waited for the other to proceed. I took the opportunity to strike the mace-bug’s ankle. It was a solid hit, but I only managed to gouge the armor about an inch deep. It was enough, though, to cause some orange blood to leak out.
Surrender now, and I will order them to stop. They will not harm you. If you continue, they will break you. They will cut you. They will drag your organs out of your body and consume them while you watch, they will ensure you survive to witness it. This is what they live for. Surrender now, and I will force them to show mercy.
“Not a chance, bitch,” I growled.
I charged the mace-bug and, as predicted, the sword-bug stepped further away to avoid being hit by its comrade. I raised my sword as if I was going to strike it from above. The bug raised its arms, and I slid between its legs on my knees, caught a small protrusion of its shell, and allowed my momentum to carry me up onto its back. The bug hissed—the first sound I’d heard it make—and flailed feebly at me. Its arms didn’t bend back that far, and the sword-bug wouldn’t approach. I was too close, and the mace-bug was moving too much for the sword-bug to get a good swing at me. The fight had grown too chaotic; it was afraid.
The mace-bug tried to throw me, so I wrapped my arm around its little head and pulled hard. It hissed again as its neck began to stretch. I tried to pull its head off, but I wasn’t able to get a solid grip. So, I brought Ebon around and began to saw through its hard shell.
The bug walked backward. None of the hooks or horns directly behind us were long, so I kept sawing and felt its room-temperature blood begin to flow across my arm. It wasn’t acidic, so I kept sawing.
When it
