He could be one of the Beta townsfolk. A mechanic, maybe. Someone’s neighbor. Someone’s uncle. His stance isn’taggressive. There’s a civilian softness to the way he holds the rifle, like it doesn’t quite belong in his hands.
But the longer I look, the more a sense of wrongness settles over me.
There is a lack of muscle definition that all Betas have. He has stringy arms and sunken cheeks as if it’s been weeks since he’s had a decent hot meal. An exhausted slope of his shoulders, betraying poor posture on a weak frame.
And around his mouth…
My stomach turns.
Sores. Raw, crusted, and infected.
They’re painful and old. Far older than any Demi-human takes to heal.
It strikes me.
He hasn’t healed because hecan’t.
He’s not like us.
He’s weaker. Slower.Fragile.
It’s a Human!
Before I can raise the alarm, gunfire cracks and, in my periphery, a man drops.
My eyelashes flutter in shock.
For one dumb, stunned moment, I can’t comprehend what I’m seeing.
He’s just… dead.
My purr sticks in my throat.
The mob shudders as my calming compulsion breaks, and like a lit fuse, theyexplode.
Shrieks of panic and screams of fear pierce the crowd.
I throw myself out of the fray and behind the line of soldiers as the crowd surges forward with bats and clubs and raw pain. The fury is back and worse than before because they don’t understand it wasn’t us.
They think we pulled the trigger!
I have to get to Zero. I have to tell him about the Human!
I scan the chaos, searching for the imposing Prime Alpha.
The colors blur. The screaming and shouting morph into a cacophony of noise.
“Specialist Sparks!”
Zero’s voice reaches me like it’s underwater, warping around the edges.
Everything is moving as molasses and lightning all at once. I feel detached, distant, as if I’m watching myself from afar. I’m here, but I’m not.
A window shatters inches from my head, and a small glass shard cuts my face.
Zero yanks me aside.
“Snap out of it, soldier!”
