Heels clacked against the floor. It couldn't have been more absurd, knowing it was probably dubbed over. Faint blue light kissed his forearm as a stark figure of a woman walked by. Particles of light shining through an ancient projector supported her back. She was only brought to life when Thirteen discovered the disks in the supply rooms. Maybe these would be of use for whatever reason.

Now, he sat with the rest of the section on the tables, glaring at the smartly-dressed woman with red-rimmed spectacles and aerosolized hair. Her sharp nose turned down on them as she roamed around in search of someone who would answer her question.

"The Winter War is a conflict between the Soviets and the Finnish people over a portion of territory," the woman said. Her voice was more monotonic than the counter's alarm. Another telltale sign that this woman was no more than a program or some sort of interactive intelligence. "According to what we have discussed, which side do you think won?"

One scoffed, leaning back on her seat with her arms crossed over her chest. "I don't see why we have to talk about this," she said. "It's obviously the Soviets. They got what they wanted."

"Yeah, but the lady said they suffered great losses and at one point conceded against the Finnish," Eight answered. "I don't see that as a win. The way towards it matters as much as the end result."

"So, the Finnish won, then?" Five argued. "They conceded a portion of their territory and lost a lot of soldiers too."

Thirteen sighed and brought his feet down from the table. "What the Winter War tells us is that nobody wins at war," he said. "Aggression might get you what you want, but not without demanding something in return. Most of the time, the price is larger than the prize."

He whirled towards the programmed lady. "Isn't that right?"

The lady opened her mouth, but a series of explosions followed by the loud blare of the counter drowned her answer. Glass shattered, and a sharp streak of silver whizzed past Thirteen. He dove to the ground as the weapon sailed towards the lady, nailing her on the spot. Blue glitched into pixels of green and pink. Then, she shattered into a thousand shards.

The projector clicked shut.

Everyone dove to the ground, hands flying over their heads. Thirteen crawled towards the window, cursing the drag of his body and his hands slipping across the dusty floor. Rock groaned and debris peeled from the ceiling as more darts and strong forces pepper the building's facade. Intruder alerts joined the counter's monotone, signaling invasion from multiple entries. From his periphery, he watched Five ram into a door. She disappeared in a flash, followed by other comrades who could do well with fighting up front.

The explosions stopped. The only casualty was the window. It could be fixed. Thirteen lowered his hands. His breaths rattled as he edged out of his hunkered position and glanced past the webbing cracks of the glass. The mounds have long been flattened, but the plan worked. It was harder to step into the building's front yard without using an ability. Only a select few could pass over the circular trench—the teleporter, Eight, and those who have extra agility and power to take the leap.

So...why was Karrel from Section H and her companion even attempting to? Was this an open declaration of war on Section M? What did Karrel stand to gain from this?

Thirteen whipped towards the spot where the lady's shards had fallen. This was their territory, and when they didn't concede it to the enemy, the invasion started. Now, they have to defend it with their all, or die trying. The only way out of this field was to play. And in any game, someone was bound to lose.

"Not today, bitch," Thirteen muttered. He pulled himself up while nothing shot at him from the horizon. His hand pulled the hand-held screen from his belt. Two taps, and the thing lit up. As expected, the spywares reflected two pins heading towards the trenches. He swiped through all the terrain maps of the central region. More pins. Were they all coming for Section M? Hilarious.

"Fourteen, with me," he called, startling the sniper from her perch. She crawled up and clambered after him. The rungs dug against his soles. His fingers gripped the cold metal of the conservatory stairs, hauling himself up until his head poked past the hole in the floor. The cement had changed into wood, making way for the conservatory's antique make. Not a speck of dust stained the floorboards, the walls, and the domed ceiling. Showed a great deal about Fourteen's attitude about her nook.

Footsteps thudded towards the spot where her gear usually lay. Zippers swished open, locks flicked and clicked into place, and bullet cases clinked on their way into the rifle's chambers. "Tell me where and when to fire," she said. "I have my eyes on several targets."

Thirteen hefted the screen to his face, calculating the coordinates. "6 clicks to the right. 4 south of maximum range," he said. "Focus on the one on the left, moving about point-five clicks a minute. Hold."

The rifle's parts chinked. Fourteen blew a long breath, positioning her finger on the trigger. "2 clicks," Thirteen said, focusing on the approaching pins. Calculating the system delay...

He narrowed his eyes at the bright red dot, giving it a face. This was war, and like the Soviets and the Finnish, they both stood to gain little and lose a lot. Nobody wins in wars, but when one was in the middle of it, sometimes, it didn't matter.

Nothing mattered but the almost audible thump of one's target stepping to mark. "Fire," he said.

The silent whizz of Fourteen's bullet out of the muzzle and the eventual burying into its target's flesh were more than enough prizes for a price he already paid in full. An eye for an eye. Blood for blood.

Life for life.

When the counter's alarm rang across the grounds, Karrel dashed out of her office and stopped by the balustrade overlooking the lobby. The entire section laid out before her, abilities in full power and weapons sharpened and safeties disabled. As if they were only waiting for the bell to ring and the counter to start.

Karrel didn't fight the manic grin spreading on her lips. "What are we waiting for?" Her voice carried hollow echoes around the otherwise empty building. "Let's go!"

The doors flew open, and they spread out. Karrel jogged closer to Daylin who accompanied the melee unit. "Are we good?" Karren asked, inclining her head to the side. That angle always showed her Daylin's best side. "I'm sorry about last night. I wasn't thinking."

Daylin glanced at her. "The rarest of times," she said. "Don't worry about it. I'm not mad."

"You sure?" Karrel asked.

A light pat bounced against Karrel's shoulder. "Sure." Daylin's chuckle was such a melody Karrel wouldn't forget in a long time. She was just so...perfect. "Lead the others. You know we can't function without you."

Oh, to hell with the others. She only wanted Daylin to survive, and if she had to do it with Karrel, all the better. It was what Karrel wanted to get across to the girl last night, and well...one thing led to another in the darkness. The next thing they knew, Karrel woke up over rumpled sheets and sore thighs.

It was both glorious and terrifying. Karrel had never experienced anything like it before, from seeing Daylin's spotless face and her excellent shape to slowly getting to know her during stolen nights watching the stars and drawing up the plans for the coming counters. For once, Karrel didn't feel the weight of leading the section. Daylin would be there to support her.

Once they got out of here, Karrel would bring her to her hometown, introduce her to everyone relevant, and perhaps, they would rent a house and live together to the end of their lives. It was a dream, and when Karrel mentioned it to her, Daylin only laughed like she did now. That was everything the girl ever did.

It was deadly, starting a fire with no extinguisher in sight. Karrel knew that, but it wasn't like she could put her heart and body on pause. There were times when her limbs would move on their own, bringing her closer to Daylin, touching the girl in places just to satisfy her needs. And when she was done, Daylin would pack up and vanish until it was time to help again.

Karrel shook her head, flushing the heat climbing to her cheeks. Her mind just played in detail the things she was bound to do to Daylin should this counter prove to be successful. It would be a fun night, and perhaps, Daylin would finally tell her the only thing Karrel wanted to hear.

Focus on running. She had to see if their maneuvers bore any significant fruit. A flash of red and blue whizzed by her periphery. Verez's floppy brown hair eased in and out of her sight. Standing a head shorter than her, it was a hilarious sight. "The melee unit is in position," he said. "Shall I pull Daylin out? I know you two...ah, have things to talk about."

Karrel screeched to a halt. "Can you do that?" she asked. "Won't she assume I made you do it?"

Verez stalled and crossed his arms. "I may be your second-in-command, but I still am in command. I can make my own decisions," he said. "Daylin will be more safe when she's with you. If I say that, nobody will suspect it's you.

He shrugged. "Suppose this makes us equal in rank."

"Did you just grab for yourself a promotion?" Karrel asked. Seemed as if Verez could be sly when he needed to. "Remind me to keep an eye on you, sir."

Verez snorted. "I'm just helping a friend out," he said. "I need you in top shape in this counter, and lately, you've blurted nothing but Daylin, Dalyin, Daylin."

Karrel opened her mouth to say that wasn't the case, but Verez beat her to it. "I don't want to pry in your business, but if it harms our operations and your focus..." He raised his gaze to meet Karrel's, smirking. "I might as well sweep your throne under you."

She narrowed her eyes. "Is that a threat?"

"Take it how you will." He waved a hand in the air and stepped past her. The insolence of this brat. She could flatten him before his irritating ability could kick in "Let's go. The flock won't stay motivated for long."

He tramped straight through the thick and thorny undergrowth. With nowhere left to go and no better options, Karrel followed.

When they emerged, Verez had joined with the melee unit and Daylin sauntered towards Karrel. A grin pulled the girl's lips apart, showing Karrel straight lines of teeth. Was there something about Daylin that was damaged? She was too perfect, and it drove Karrel insane.

"Verez said I'm needed here," Daylin said, tucking her dark brown ringlets into a tight bun. "What's up?"

Karrel sighed and tucked her own curls behind her ear. "He said that, huh?" She shifted her weight from foot to foot. "Well, I guess you're stuck with me."

"Ain't that the dream?" Daylin chuckled, shoving her hands into her pockets. "So, where to?"

Karrel jerked her chin at the golden dome poking from the low-lying canopies. The block of boring white stones couldn't have earned her ire that quickly. Ever since sending one of their own to infiltrate the headquarters, she was grateful they got only the fake records. But still...the nerve of those pricks.

She tried to get even with them during the previous counter, but instead of dealing with their leader, all she achieved was wounding them. That spot wasn't even where it hurt. Section M's leader probably didn't care about them, seeing as how they left one of their own to Ikerne's blades.

Section M was an enigma that even Karrel could read. They were detached from everyone, even going as far as torching their immediate radius to prevent anyone from walking into the front door. Most of them also wouldn't go out when there was no counter, making it harder to gather information about them. There were no detectable networks either, and Karrel could say that because she already tried looking.

Whoever controlled that section knew what they were doing, and it frustrated Karrel to no end. They were the only section who hindered her way to victory, to a fantastic life with Daylin without the threat of counters and death at every corner. Hence, the longest plan in the making, which they would watch to fruition as long as the counter's alarm rang.

Planting the rumors that Section M was coming for them next got all the remaining sections gearing up and banding together. What better way than to get rid of the giant before it stomped on them? Now, Karrel and the rest of the section would still go out and run around, eliminating the weaker ones, but their focus would be surveillance. How would Section M fight through this counter, when every section was out for their blood? With their way out blocked with a hollowed crater, where would they go should they decide to escape?

Karrel made it out of the forest's influence and pulled Daylin before she could barrel forward. "Stay back," she said. "Take stock of the battle."

Daylin reached out and rubbed a hand on Karrel's shoulder. "What's got you so tense?" she asked. "Section M won't be standing at the end of this counter. You told me that, right?"

Based on a loose calculation, that was. The probability was still to Section M's favor, and she wouldn't put it past their leader to have foreseen that. Even if Karrel didn't want to admit it, she found a rival with Section M, or at least, its head.

"Daylin, I—"

Bronze sliced through the air. It headed for her. Shit—

Her world swirled as a force clamped around her arm and threw her to the ground. She slammed back-first into the grass, Daylin's curls wafting over Karrel's face when her hairdo burst. Warmth and weight pressed against Karrel's body as Daylin sprawled on top of her. Wasn't it too early for this? Why...

"Are you alright?" Karrel shook the girl's shoulder and brushed her hair away from her face. "Daylin?"

Daylin didn't move. Panic seized Karrel's throat. She grunted and pushed the girl's body off her. Her fingers pressed against a stream of hot liquid. Wait. What...

No.

When Karrel brought her hand to her face, the stains were unmistakable.

It was blood.