Plasma rounds flew everywhere, pelting Cyrus on all sides. Ignoring the pain, he slashed back at his enemies with his spear, sending blue blood flying all over the walls. More and more Lizards rushed in to stop him, but their numbers meant little; they would all die at his hands.

He tore down one hallway, ramming every Lizard he saw with his makeshift spear as more and more soldiers rushed to respond to the alarm. Some he smashed apart, others he skewered. By now, he surely had more kills under his belt than from his previous escape. Where was the golden-armored Lizard?

"Bring me your captain!" he roared, hoisting one armored commando into the air.

The Lizard gasped in pain as Cyrus's fingers dug deeper under its ribcage. In response, he hoisted it higher, eliciting another squeal.

"Call it in," he demanded.

Pawing at his radio, the Lizard grunted in pain, tapping the transmit button.

"Salakta vos," he moaned.

Cyrus waited until it stopped talking, then lowered it to the ground enough so it could stand on its toes.

"Thank you," he said. "I'll make this quick."

Its eyes widened, but Cyrus covered its face with his hand, blocking off its view. Squeezing hard, he crushed its face inward, grinding bones, muscle, and scales alike in his vice-like grip. Once he was finished, he dropped the corpse to the ground, pausing only to wipe his hand clean on its shirt.

Stepping over the sea of corpses, Cyrus took a moment to examine his handiwork. Over two dozen Lizards lay dead in the hallway behind him, smashed or stabbed with fatal results. Blue blood painted almost every inch of the walls, ceiling, and floor, soaking the hall enough to flood the vents. The alarms continued to blare, sirens screaming over a small sea of corpses. More than enough to get the Lizards' attention.

"Urvosh!" more cries sounded. "Urvosh!"

Cyrus turned to the source of the noise, grinning as he awaited his next victims.

From around the corner, a massive Lizard emerged, cradling an oversized rifle in its arms. Unlike the corpses strewn about the hallway, this Lizard had no legs-instead, the lower half of its body trailed along the ground, thickly corded with muscle and curving many meters behind it. This was the snake-like Lizard from before; the one that attacked the kid in the operating room.

As soon as it saw him, the Lizard let out a deafening roar, thrusting its rifle into the air. Cyrus brandished his spear, snarling back in a wordless challenge. He stepped forward, sweeping the corpses before him to the side with his foot as he prepared to attack. However, instead of taking him on, the snake shouted a command, bringing a trio of commandos bursting into the hallway and peppering Cyrus with smoldering plasma rounds.

In a blink, Cyrus leaped across the span of the corridor, landing feet-first on the nearest soldier. Its ribs caved beneath his weight, hurling the commando out of his way as Cyrus dropped to the ground. On either side, the remaining commandos drew their combat knives, slashing at Cyrus's head. Instinctively, he rolled out of the way, coming up to his feet behind them. He spun quickly, running one through with his makeshift spear. Before the other commando could recover, Cyrus snatched it up by the collar and threw it down the length of the hallway head-first.

As he straightened back up, a heavy plasma round suddenly burned into his back, searing heat that felt like it was worming its way into his intestines. He cried out in pain and dropped his spear, narrowly avoiding the second shot as he dove to the floor. The snake-like Lizard lowered its rifle to follow him, sending blast after blast of superheated plasma slugs down the hall as Cyrus quickly closed the distance between them. For a brief moment, its eyes were all Cyrus could see, cold and unrelenting amber slits.

Then, in the instant between one shot and the next, Cyrus seized the barrel in a fist, crumpling it like foil just as the weapon discharged. The rifle cracked, hissing as the plasma round exploded inside the weapon. The snake Lizard stared at him in shock, but before Cyrus could get a hit in, it slithered backwards out of his reach, clutching its trigger hand.

Cyrus glanced down at his own arm, watching his sensationless skin sow itself back together. That was one advantage he had over his enemies. He reached down and picked up his dropped spear, hefting its weight in his hands. This was another.

He hurled the spear through the air, stabbing the overgrown Lizard through the shoulder as it tried to twist out of the way. The force of the strike knocked its upper body to the floor shoulder-first, causing the snake to roar in pain.

Walking up to the cowering monster, Cyrus slammed his foot down on the injury, twisting hard enough with his heel to make it scream. The snake's thrashing tail splashed sickly blue blood from the pool that blanketed the floor. Droplets splattered on Cyrus's bare skin as he grappled with the snake, the coppery smell of it enough to make him want to puke. He snarled wordlessly as he seized the Lizard's wrist, breaking the delicate bones at the joint as easily as snapping a twig. The snake howled in pain, arching its back as it tried to slip away..

"Bring. Me. Your. Commander!" Cyrus shouted, stomping on its tail.

He twisted his foot, snapping something he presumed to be bone. It wasn't like he could tell anything about this snake Lizard's physiology. The snake howled in pain, thrashing even harder as it tried to escape him. Cyrus watched as the Lizard's upper body attempted to crawl away on the ground, weakly scratching at the floor.

"Pathetic," he growled. This weakling wasn't going to be summoning any commander.

Kicking the Lizard onto its stomach, he placed his foot on one of its shoulder blades, pinning its torso to the floor. Then, he reached down and placed his hand on the small of its back, seizing its spine with one hand. Taking his time, he squeezed hard, slowly ripping the backbone out of the monster's body. The Lizard howled, screaming at the top of its lungs, but as Cyrus continued to pull, the creature fell silent, passing out from the pain. With one last tug, Cyrus stood back up, looking down at the slimy blue appendage in his hand. The snake wouldn't be going anywhere, not without this.

Without warning, a sharp plasma bolt pierced his hand, shooting the bloody spine out of his grasp. He cried out, clutching his wounded hand as he spun around.

On the other side of the hallway, two new Lizards stood side by side, backed up by a squad of Lizard soldiers. Immediately, Cyrus could see something was different. Something wasn't right.

The first Lizard was a large one, with musculature so dense it was twice as large as any regular soldier. Its size even dwarfed that of the snake's torso and its hide was adorned with thicker scales, indicating at least some tougher armor. A massive sword sat on its back, sheathed in some kind of seamless leathery hide.

The other was wiry, built with a lean Lizard body. Even though it was as tall as a normal Lizard, its build was much thinner, appearing to give this particular Lizard the impression of a stick compared to its companion. This one would be easy to kill. It carried a pair of sheathed metal claws on its forearms, the blades currently locked in place.

Cyrus snarled at his new opponents, grinding his teeth in frustration. Where was the golden-armored commander?

"I don't have time for this," he growled, closing his hands on his spear.

As he stood back up to prepare himself, the thin Lizard suddenly blurred, disappearing right before Cyrus's eyes. Even with his enhanced reflexes, Cyrus barely had time to react before something sharp tore across his shoulder. This time, red blood splattered into the hallway, mixing quickly with the blue. Luckily, the strike landed on his bad shoulder, dulling the pain with badly healed nerves.

"What the hell?" he gasped, spinning around to face the new threat.

The thin Lizard slid to a stop, sliding precariously for a moment before hooking its claws into a nearby corpse to slow down. Sloppy. Good to know.

Cyrus raised his spear and charged forward, jagged spear lowered with the intent of running down his opponent. The fast Lizard blurred again, but this time, instead of charging straight toward him, the Lizard dashed out of the way, leaving Cyrus out in the open.

A split second later, something heavy slammed into his right side, knocking the wind out of his already injured lungs. The blow also knocked Cyrus into the wall, leaving a body-shaped depression as he collapsed on the ground.

"Ugh," Cyrus groaned, as he reached around to clutch his injured shoulder.

A large shadow loomed over his head, blotting out the bright indoors lights. The large Krakoshan.

Cyrus's eyes widened and he lunged forward into a roll. A split second later, a massive foot crashed into the ground near the wall, denting the floor in a solid footprint. This Lizard was tough, no doubt about it.

With a cry, Cyrus jumped straight up from his crouching position on the floor, twisting his body sideways. A sharp kick knocked the Krakoshan forward, smashing it into the wall where Cyrus had landed before.

Cyrus spun around, bracing himself for impact as the blur reappeared. Except this time, the thin Krakoshan wasn't striking at his torso.

Something cold whipped through the back of his calves, severing the tendons in his legs. Immediately, the cold was replaced by the warm sensation of blood, trickling out of his body and spilling down his ankles.

"Hrgh," Cyrus gasped.

He dropped to his knees, grunting from the pain. He couldn't get up. His legs weren't responding. His feet weren't responding. He couldn't-

Cyrus screamed as the thin Lizard's blades ripped into his back, stabbing through his ribcage to emerge from his chest. Pain exploded across his vision as his scream was cut off- the last strike had opened up holes in his lungs. He choked, spitting out crimson blood.

The thin Lizard dug its foot into Cyrus's back, kicking him to the ground face-first to retrieve its blades. Cyrus gasped painfully as its metal claws disappeared from his chest, only to be replaced by a sensation of drowning as his lungs began to fill up with blood.

"Hrk," he coughed, struggling to draw breath.

A large hand closed around his good shoulder, hauling him back onto his knees. Cyrus snorted, looking up dazedly at the large Krakoshan. It had recovered from the kick and was now hauling him into the air, dragging him up to face it.

"Hrhhrh," the Krakoshan laughed, drawing back one beefy arm.

"Hrk-" Cyrus gasped again, struggling to break its grip. "Wait..."

The Krakoshan roared, swinging its fist forward. The air that remained in his lungs fled in an instant. One of his ribs snapped, but Cyrus couldn't scream-there wasn't even enough breath for that. Instead, all he could do was fight to stay conscious as his broken body crashed through the weakened wall, revealing the bright light of day.

Cyrus hit the ground hard, rolling along the packed mud until he came to a stop. He groaned, still gasping for breath as he caught a glimpse of more Lizards rushing around outside, weapons trained on him. The large and thin Krakoshans followed him out of the hole, stepping out side by side, fully prepared to continue the fight.

The large one grunted, sending the Lizards around it scrambling. As it slid its foot back, it reached behind it and brought out its massive blade, whirling it out into a defensive stance. Beside it, the thin Lizard braced itself, shifting its weight as it prepared to charge.

This was it.

Cyrus closed his eyes, savoring his small victory as he prepared to be gunned down. A series of sharp crackles rippled along the lines in front of him as a powerful gun roared in the distance. Cries of pain and surprise echoed suddenly in his ears.

"What...?" he muttered, cracking an eye open.

The Lizards assembled before him were now on the ground, all of them riddled with massive smoking holes. Raising his gaze to the airfield, Cyrus suddenly noticed one of the parked ships in the hangar blasting away at the Lizards around him, cutting down their ranks before they could fire on him.

Gaping in surprise, Cyrus whirled around, watching Lizards all around him die left and right. Whoever was helping him right now, he sure hoped they lasted. Everywhere, all around the base, more Lizards were rushing out in groups, screaming as they lowered their weapons to fight. Almost fifty Lizards, dying or fighting, were on the field now, surrounding him and the ship.

Cyrus pushed himself to his feet, stumbling as he felt his body struggling to regenerate. He probably had a broken rib; a sharp pain dug into his chest, stinging with every movement. Even standing up, he could feel his lungs partially filled with blood, draining slowly as he coughed it up. The recently scarred area of his abdomen screamed in protest, threatening to make him pass out. Still, he bent down and scooped up an abandoned rifle, switching his grip to wield it as an improvised club.

The air was filled with the barks of plasma rifles and the booms of the ship's cannons as his newfound ally laid down cover fire. Whoever was in the ship was by no means an expert shooter, but the armor on the ship and the firepower it was packing was more than enough to keep the Lizards scrambling. Through it all, Cyrus only had eyes for the two Lizards, the tall muscled one and the skinny fast one.

As the rest of the garrison struggled to take up formation around him, Cyrus hefted his new weapon, preparing to face his enemies.

"Who dies next?"

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