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Maverick loved running errands for Junpei. Truly, he loved them! With the other being busy all the time, working on his detective job so diligently, how could Maverick not help out from time to time? Groceries? No problem, he’ll grab something sweet to surprise him with. Collecting papers? He’ll organize them all too with the neatest staples. Exercising his people skills to worm out information? He’ll get their number in the process.
Reconnaissance out in the middle of a darkened city with hardly any lights in sight? Maverick was iffy on following through, but he knew that if Junpei sent him out on a mission like this, it was most likely safe. He couldn’t begin to imagine the other shoving him into harm’s way, so that could be some kind of reassurance that this was going to turn out okay. Even as that stood, Maverick couldn’t help but feel a shiver run down his back. He still couldn’t figure out how dark this was… how quiet it became.
When he turned onto this darkened road, the streets behind him were ablaze with activity. Not ablaze compared to other popular locations, but compared to this side road, he might as well have been in some casino’s front street. Though the side road now felt as if he walked right into a ghost town. The glowing streetlamps’ lights didn’t reach this far so not even his shadow kept him company.
Suppressing the arising shiver, he continued on down the road, his polished shoes scuffing the asphalt. The street continued on, only bathed subtly by the glow of the moon overhead, painting the rising buildings on either side of him black. It felt constricting as if he were walking down into the bowels of some great creature.
Was it too late to text Junpei and say he couldn’t do it? Kind of pathetic of him to back out so fast, but Junpei would understand. However, Maverick didn’t want to let him down for the sake of his own consciousness.
When the buzzing noise of the street behind him faded, he found his first gut-churning discovery. Stopping dead in his tracks with widening eyes, Maverick spotted a dark stain on the ground in front of him with slick lines of light reflecting the moon from overhead. It was far too dark to see what the substance was from where he stood, but he could smell it. God, the smell made his stomach roil and churn, sending bile creeping up his throat.
He should be used to blood, especially being in a twisted existence like this one, but he never managed to stomach it. Perhaps he started to, but the fact that he saw too much— too much to be spilled for someone to walk away from— splattered along the ground in front of him sent him to the edge. What didn’t help at all was where he stood. Was there some back alley killer here luring people where it was too dark to have witnesses? Would he be next?
Maybe it was just his nose tricking him! Maybe it wasn’t blood and his imagination was getting the better of him! It wouldn’t be the first time so he had to be overreacting.
Doing his best to swallow his mounting fear, Maverick pursued onward. It was a stupid decision, he knew, to keep going. But what else was he going to do? Cry to Junpei about how he spotted some blood? How pathetic would that be?
He really should have turned back. He really had been stupid to keep going. Maverick had only gone a few more steps before the reek of blood took over his senses again, making him gag into his hand. He squinted his eyes through the dark, trying to find the source as that little pool of blood couldn’t have done such a thing. This was too strong, too potent. It made his eyes water and his nose burn from the smell of iron. What on earth was causing that stench?!
It didn’t take him long to figure it out. The feathers on his head stood on end as the black mass of a body sprawled out on the road in front of him, arms and legs splayed like a sea star with glassy eyes staring off at the moon. The moment that Maverick tried to get a closer look to get an idea of what exactly happened, he instantly drew back with a swimming head as his eyes took in the disgusting sight: a gaping and shredded hole in the middle of the body’s chest.
What caused that?! What kind of creature?!
Maverick stumbled away from the body, trying to get around it as he attempted to continue along the road. Stupid decision, just plain stupid. But he had to give himself credit. The dead body seemed to have belonged to an ordinary person without any supernatural abilities to defend themselves. And he wasn’t like that. He was positive that he could fend off whatever predator was lurking around here.
The visual of the body didn’t leave his eyes as he continued down the street, trying to ignore how the power lines stretching across the road looked like slimy tendrils of some terrifying monster. He couldn’t let his imagination get the better of him… not here.
That all changed at the next body with its head missing from its shoulders. Then the next with its lower half sliced clean off. Then the next that still bled from lacerations from its arms and chest. Then the next with—
Maverick was being watched.
Stiff-backed, he stopped dead in his tracks as a chill ran down his spine once he came across the last body— victim— who was gargling their last agonized breaths through a mouthful of blood. A similar gaping hole blossomed from their stomach. This wasn’t the victim staring up at him with lightless eyes, but he felt something on the back of his head, boring into his soul. It didn’t feel like a critical, penetrating glare, but one of a hunter.
And judging how the poor soul in front of him gave one last wet breath before ceasing to make noise again, he knew that he was the next on the list.
Instinct gripped him by the heart and Maverick jumped over the body, his feet almost slipping on the blood-soaked ground. He walked right into a nightmare! This had to be a dream! Did Junpei even know that this was there?!
His pace quickened as his heart hammered against his chest, threatening to crack open his ribs from the intensity of the pounding. Trying all his might to keep his focus on the world around him with his stare shooting directly ahead, Maverick attempted to stay calm. As good as that would do him.
It wasn’t too late to turn back. Junpei would understand. He would tell him that he couldn’t do it, that the intel got away, or be honest about this gruesome scene. He would understand… he had to.
Maverick’s mind was made up. No, he wouldn’t spend another second here if that meant that he’d be left to rot in a horrible place like this. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched still, and he knew the longer he stalled, the more sure he was that he wouldn’t make it out of there alive. There was no way he would be dying that night and knowing his luck, he probably would. These people just served as collateral for it.
But before he could do anything, he heard something far above his head. A swooping noise— an all too familiar one— like wind brushing over feathers. Large feathers. So whatever was flying overhead… it was massive. Images raced through his mind as he tried to quicken his pace, searching for an overhang to duck underneath. All he could imagine was a terrifying bird with black feathers slick with blood, gigantic talons like meat hooks, and a beak sharper than a harpoon. The eyes would be piercing and intelligent, but sharp with malice.
He didn’t want to see this terrifying bird. He didn’t want to interact with it. He didn’t want to exist with it. He had to get out!
The flapping of wings stopped as wires crossing the street behind him freaked from added stress. Oh god. Terror gripped Maverick, turning his legs into metal bars encased in concrete and his heart into ice. That didn’t sound heavy enough for the bird his mind was coming up with.
A sharper, grating noise met his ears, which stopped his blood entirely in his veins and his fear teetering over the edge. No… it wasn’t a bird. That was the sound of a shotgun cocking. The metallic noise echoed down the street, and for even longer in his ears as he slowly registered what this hunter tracking him down was. He would rather take the bird because at least he could detach it from any humanity.
But with a human, he had a better chance of fighting himself free, especially if they had a shotgun.
Before he could move, he heard a metallic chuckle fill the air, the sharp grating noises piercing into his skin as if they were physical daggers. It was a low, rasping laugh, catching the breath in his own throat as his mind began to spin. He heard that laugh before… but where did he hear it? It didn’t matter, his mind was too much of a panicked mess to think and he believed that he would be doomed if he started trying to focus on where he heard a laugh of all places.
Well, at least if it was a human, he had a better time trying to reason for them to spare him. Though as the gut-wrenching sights of the bodies he passed entered fresh into his mind again, he probably was fresh out of luck there too.
Still, it wouldn’t hurt to try. Maverick’s hands shook with his breath as he raised them in surrender. He had to be sure he didn’t come across as a threat and maybe this hunter would leave him alone. Gritting his teeth not out of any conscious decision, he continued to stand there, trying not to turn or make any sudden movements. Perhaps part of him didn’t want to see who or what this assailant was.
“I’m not a threat,” he said in a voice as calm and level as he could make it, but he only heard shaking and weak words. As if he could control his voice in a moment like this… he was at death’s door. “I’m… I’m not here to cause trouble. Please… please let me continue on— I’ll leave. I’ll leave too.”
A long, painstaking silence followed suit, leaving Maverick to hear nothing but the pounding of his own heart rushing all over his body. His head swam with it, creating a ringing in his ears. It was too quiet.
Then the amused chuckle, grated by a mechanical voice box, sounded once more. Bone-chilling, it seeped into Maverick’s skin, seizing his lungs with its icy laws. Why, why did it sound so familiar? He knew that voice but here, it felt as if he were hearing it through the film of a nightmare. Maybe this was and he was having a very vivid one.
“Well, well, well,” the assailant’s voice called, raspy and sharp through the filter of static. Maverick’s breath caught in his throat, his heart seizing. “Looky here! Seems like another prey can’t put up a fight.” The grating voice trailed off as a chromatic hiss-like growl issued from the hunter. “How borin’. And here I was thinking I’d actually have a fun time on this planet.”
He knew that voice.
How Maverick managed to turn around with his blood more chilled than glaciers, he had no idea. His mind had run blank, his mouth had run dry, and his heart stopped beating completely. He couldn’t believe his ears. That voice…
That person didn’t exist anymore.
As he lifted his eyes to the hunter on the phone lines, he felt a whole new terror grip him. Silhouetted between the black buildings and in front of the indigo sky, perched a hunched figure. Maverick couldn’t explain what it looked like from the lack of light and distance, but he saw two sharpened wings bristle over the back of something horned. Was… was that a skull staring down at him?
But Maverick knew that voice. He would’ve known it from anywhere, even after all of those long years. His mouth worked soundlessly, his tongue trying to form syllables that he couldn’t shove into his mind.
Finally, he found his voice.
“Chip…?” he managed out, his voice more unsteady than before, “Is… is that you?”
The terrifying figure didn’t reply immediately. It fell silent instead and he had the feeling of its eyes narrowing down at him before it fell off the wires. Its wings caught the light of their surroundings, glittering silver and white. The sound of chains and metal clanked as it hit the ground heavily, but stuck the landing on two feet. At the loud sound of metal hitting the asphalt, Maverick stumbled back, still keeping his trembling hands in the air as his heart beat faster and faster.
Through the dim lighting, he watched like a deer in headlights as the predator stalked forward, its face hidden by a gigantic bull skull. Maverick was sure he could feel Chip’s signature smile boring into him, the feeling exemplified as he saw the three wings on the other’s head flap in anticipation.
The hunter lolled its head to the side as if it studied Maverick’s ability to be a fine meal. It made an odd sound as it clicked its tongue against the roof of its mouth. “Ye tell me,” it grated out in a twisted version of Chip’s voice, “I don’t know. Is it really me? ‘Cause I recall goin’ by somethin’ else.”
He shrunk as the other got closer, now using his quivering hands as the weakest but most dependable shield he could ask for. Maverick continued to stare at what should’ve been Chip through his fingers, trying to find anything else familiar about his late friend.
“Well—well, Chip,” he stammered out in a high tone, “It has to be you! You… you look like him! You sound like him! You are him! Ah— it’s me, Ricky! Don’t— don’t you remember me?”
The other’s demeanor changed. Their stiff back relaxed slightly as they tilted their head to the other side, displaying more curiosity now than malice. Planting their hands on their belt and sliding their thumbs behind it, they took another step forward that jangled chains and spurs. Silence overtook them once more as if they played with Maverick’s terrified rambles in their head.
“Well, no, I don’t know nobody with that name,” they said gruffly. A smile leered in their words. “Why? Does dear ‘Ricky’ have some sugary story to tell me? Because I have better things to listen to, so make it fast… I want to entertain ye, as it’s entertainin’ to hear you trip over yer own words.”
Still trying to maintain some distance between the two, Maverick stumbled back once more on shaking legs, his feathers planted flat against his head. His brain could hardly keep up with any of this and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to think hard on any of this. He couldn’t possibly get more on edge. Though slowly, he lowered his arms, once more trying to bargain for peace.
A shaky and breathy laugh left him which was pitched almost higher than his own voice. “Come on!” he tried to reason, “We know each other! How— how are you even alive?! I— we all thought you were dead! What are you doing here?! I— just— can we just part ways if… if things are going to be like this?”
“I’m going to be really honest with you here,” the other ground out, taking two more noisy steps forward to the cowering Maverick, “I don’t give a damn who ye are and how ye claim we know each other. I don’t wanna catch myself being friends with someone in the future with someone so…” A disgusted note fell over his voice. “…pathetic, to put it light. And sure, we can part ways! If ye want to leave so soon, why didn’t ye say so?”
This had to be some kind of trick from some malicious creature or spell. Chip would have never done this, or acted like this, or even talked like this! This wasn’t the same Chip he knew, just someone else taking on and warping his form. This wasn’t Maverick’s friend. This wasn’t the kid he found, the one who was sobbing about Maverick buying lunch for him. This wasn’t the man who took him out to the shooting range and made challenges with old soda cans.
Whatever killed Chip took his form, Maverick was sure of it. Now the horror stewing in his gut began to bubble and froth into something more righteous. Why would they do this to his friend?
“Yeah, I’m going now,” he said with more strength leveling out his voice. About time it returned too. “You… you can go the other way too, I’m not messing around with anything or your business. I’ll be out of your hair soon.”
Not wanting to keep his eyes focused on the mockery of his former best friend, he turned on his heel and swiftly walked in the same direction he had been going. If this lookalike had dropped in from in front of him, then he would’ve gone back to society and use them as a way to blend in. But now, he was poised deeper into the heart of darkness, where the chances of anyone ever hearing his screams became less and less great.
He shouldn’t have turned his back.
A maniacal cackling laugh shot through the air from behind like a speeding bullet, echoing off of the darkened buildings and once more penetrating fear right back into Maverick’s heart. Before he could even take a step, he felt the cold lip of a shotgun’s barrel pressed against the back of his head. Heart stopping once more, he slowly raised his hands into the air again in surrender.
“Of course!” crooned the hunter, “I couldn’t be more overjoyed! But ol’ Deadeye’s got somethin’ on his mind. I wonder what my pal’s blood tastes like… is it any different from the others I slaughtered before? Heh, let’s find out!”
“I really don’t want any trouble!” Maverick bit out, the shakiness returning once again with his fate just one finger pull away. But something else beneath the panicked surface began to well, morphing his voice into something more foreboding and strong. “Whoever you are— Chip— Deadeye— you need to go satisfy yourself with what you already have.”
The second that those words left his mouth, the barrel of the shotgun suddenly twisted upwards, as if it were nothing more than a bendy straw getting pushed. The end of the barrel pointed up to the sky as the rest sat in Deadeye’s hands as if he were still aiming for the other’s head.
Deadeye gave a start at the twisted metal, the stare from beneath the bull’s skull even more pronounced before he gave another sharp, barking laugh of glee. Why he did that when Maverick had just evaded a bullet in the head, the other had no idea, but he wasn’t keen on wanting to find out.
“Yes! Yes!” the hunter cheered enthusiastically, the crazed laughter still laced with his words, “I love this, the prey is fightin’ back! I’ve been waitin’ for a moment like this!”
Maverick spun around and backed away just in time as Deadeye’s metallic wings raised up into their full wingspan. Dozens of large, blade-like feathers caught the dim light, lethal, cold. With snaps and pops, Maverick watched in horror as a few knife-like feathers detached themselves from the wings, leaving them patchy and messy, before they shot straight at Maverick like bullets.
Panic shot through him as he raised his hands defensively again, though his mind becoming more focused and sharp. He sent his attention to each incoming feather, dulling their tips as they flew as if he were welding them and sending them off course by denting their sides.
It paid to have the power to manipulate metal when his adversary only fought with it. He still had a fighting chance.
However, even with his powers to aid them, Maverick’s eyes shot wide as he threw himself to the side as the blades he wasn’t ale to get careened towards him. He wasn’t fast enough. Pain erupted in the arm closest to the projectiles as they smashed into it and sliced through fabric and skin, piercing and cutting through muscle.
He gritted his teeth and tried to swallow a cry as the pain coursed white-hot throughout his body, a new sharp throb developing as he rolled to the hard ground. This wouldn’t be what brought him down. They were sharper than he anticipated, but he wasn’t going to go down this fast. Continuing to roll enough to face Deadeye, Maverick shot his other hand into the air, squeezing his fingers.
Deadeye’s leg splintered and warped as the metal twisted and contorted. He stumbled forward, shooting his good leg out in front of him to catch his balance as the tips of his wings touched down to aid in a tripod stance.
Another laugh broke free from Deadeye. “Oh, well!” he hissed, “Didn’t need that leg anyway!”
The bent shotgun in his hand suddenly began to straighten out once more, but it didn’t stop there. As Maverick tried to scramble his way back onto his feet, he watched it elongate and become lethally sharp. Deadeye’s wings began to lift up again and it took Maverick half a second to throw himself back to the ground, pressing himself as close to the earth as possible.
He could hear the clattering of those feathers scrape across the ground while he heard lethal swoops of wind shoot just over his head. The feathers shot back towards Deadeye, fitting themselves neatly back onto his wings.
With a swoop that sent enough air to shove Maverick across the ground, Deadeye flew into the air like a great angel of death. Unable to keep his eyes off of the danger for so long, Maverick twisted onto his back, trying to find his bearings… only to find that the shotgun once poised in the other’s hands was now a large, arching scythe.
He didn’t have time to get up before a gloating laugh filled the air and the scythe suddenly flew through the air at break-neck speeds, aimed right at Maverick’s head. If that fell, it would take his head clean off.
Without thinking, he raised his good arm again, twisting his wrist to the side as the speeding scythe turned. While he couldn’t send it going the opposite direction— not with something this large going that fast, which no one could without a canon intercepting it— he turned it on its head. The gigantic blade turned skyward as the sharpened point hurtled towards him.
A cracking of rocks met his ears as the scythe’s other end embedded itself into the road beside him. It sank into the ground with the forward momentum. Too close for comfort. At least he wasn’t hit.
But that celebration was shortlived because as soon as the scythe’s end made contact with the asphalt, a sudden burst of sparks issued from the friction. They screamed through the air, jumping like crickets. When they landed on Maverick, they ate through his clothes and bit into his skin. His face contorted as he tried to suppress a pained scream. The agony was nothing like he ever felt before, with the feeling of being punctured by hundreds of hot needles.
Ignoring the shrieking pain coursing throughout his body, Maverick turned his attention back up to his flying opponent and closed his fists before the other could launch a follow-up, like crushing him through a dive bomb. He still needed the other to fall, but that descent would be on his own terms. As his fists tightened, Deadeye suddenly faltered in the sky, jerking in shock as his mechanical wings stopped flapping, now curling around him like a gigantic steel cocoon.
Deadeye gave a shout as he plummeted from the sky like some massive bird shot right out of the air. As Maverick scuttled to his feet, which sent a new spike of panic through him once he realized that the scythe had punctured his jacket, the other hit the ground hard. The grating noise of metal scraping against the ground screeched in his ears, disorienting him as he tugged and tugged at his jacket. Finally, with a ripping noise that couldn’t have been more welcome, Maverick freed himself from the trap he had accidentally shoved himself in.
Shaking from adrenaline, Maverick scrambled to his feet and kept Deadeye’s wings wrapped around him in a tight lock. He couldn’t break concentration, not for anything, and definitely not once Deadeye began to shake with laughter once more. It chilled him to his very core, that no matter what happened, the other seemed to be enjoying it far too much.
“Wonderful!” the hunter cried out amidst his cackles, “I love this! This is much better than chasin’ down helpless prey. Fighting one is much… much more exhilaratin’.”
As if Maverick wanted to fight anymore. Breath hitching, he suddenly spun on his heel and took off full kilter back towards actual civilization. However, the second he turned his back on the maddened Deadeye, the spell binding the other’s wings together broke like frail chains.
They might as well have been chaining something as powerful as a dragon down. Even with his back turned and him running as fast as his legs could carry him, Maverick could hear the whooshing sound of Deadeye’s wings arching back up into the air. Then…—
Then a force as strong as a speeding freight train rammed him square in the back, taking him clean off his feet. The entire world froze as his breath left his chest faster than he ever exhaled before. For the few precious seconds he was floating through the air, speeding up to be as fast as whatever hit him, he couldn’t feel or think of anything at all. In those moments, he was nothing.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see silver and red wingtips of pure steel on either side of him. Oh. Deadeye… he caught up to him. Disbelief took over as he found himself entirely within the hands of death. Deadeye had caught him, and he knew that traveling at this speed at the mercy of a truly dangerous individual, his lucky streak would finally end.
They descended.
Maverick hit the asphalt with a pain greater than he felt in the fight.
The world spun as the bull mask flew off of Deadeye’s face.
Far above, the buildings spun.
The world continued to be a violent spinning mess of pain, dizziness, sparks both outside and inside of Maverick’s eyes, and a grip on his back that wouldn’t relent. Disoriented, he could only be a ragdoll with no direction as he hit the ground over and over again as the momentum of the skidding impact drove him and Deadeye farther and farther down the street. His cheeks split open, the skin was torn from his hands, and the clothes on his back were ripped and shredded.
Finally, they came to a stop, but it wasn’t a gradual one. Stars exploded in front of Maverick’s eyes as Deadeye slammed him into the ground at a sudden stop. With the world nothing more than a muddied mess, he gave a weeping whine. He could hardly see without seeing double. His body ached as if he were skinned alive.
He wished he couldn’t see at all as his former best friend’s face glared down at him with a smile so wide and malicious that it never should have belonged there. All of it was confirmed now and Maverick could feel a desperate wail start to form in his chest. Why did he have to stare into his face?
“Now,” Deadeye chuckled, the terrible metallic filter still shredding his words like a grater. His grip on Maverick’s shoulder tightened as he reached for something at his hip. “I’ve had my fun, but ye know my patience is also runnin’ thin. Not to mention runnin’ low on fuel. Shall we part ways now?”
And to Maverick’s horror, he drew out the pistol that had always been at home on his side. The jade-embedded hilt caught the dim light, sending a new wave of fear through the other, especially when Deadeye guided the barrel right to his victim’s forehead and pressed.
He could feel the ice-cold lip kissing his temple and it felt as if the world had gone still.
This was it. This had to be it. Maverick’s story finally reached its final chapter and got to the final page; a testament to nail home the fact of how sorry his existence always had been. A life of misery and hardship leading up to being taken out by a creature using his former best friend’s face as a mask. A tragic tale to write home about. One that would turn into some classic fairy tale for others to revel in.
But no. This wasn’t the end. Maverick refused to die. He made a promise all those years ago to the children who lost their lives in that sick place. He had been one of the only to escape while the others lost their wings, then their lives. Long ago, he made a vow to live for them and he wasn’t going to break that streak. That promise renewed itself when his new family lost their lives to that sick freak with the book.
He would be damned if he died here and now.
Deadeye’s gun arm suddenly bent and crumbed, rendering his hand frozen and useless, the gun falling from it and smacking the other in the face. Maverick would have gone for the gun, but he knew how much that meant to Chip, and even under these circumstances, he would have never betrayed him in such a disgusting way. As his arm imploded, Deadeye’s triumphant demeanor flipped like a switch and he let out a noisy scoff of offense.
That scoff swiftly turned into an outraged growl. “Okay, now you’ve done it!” he snarled.
Before Maverick could react in the slightest, the other’s fist suddenly bore down at him at lightning-fast speeds. His eyes widened and that was all he could do before a sickening crack filled the air and more stars danced in front of a suddenly black scene. Maverick’s bleeding cheek split wide open now, splattering blood across his face and staining Deadeye’s closed fist.
As the world danced around him, he tried to come to his senses as quickly as possible. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, numbing his mind and subduing his thoughts. But he could not die. Even as his head screamed in pain, Maverick refused to die.
Deadeye raised his fist again to send another bone-splintering punch down on the other. But that second hit never came. A terrible-sounding crunch issued from Deadeye’s chest as the metal caved in and curled on itself. It suddenly tugged back, throwing him completely off Maverick and sending him hurtling through the air.
He let out a groan, trying to sit upright with his malfunctioning arm and leg as Maverick tried to scamper back onto his feet through a pulsing migraine.
“Damn brat,” he managed out as he sent a loathsome glare at the other as they finally got to their feet, “I’m placin’ a bounty on yer head for that!”
That was all Maverick needed to claw his way through the mounting brain fog. Using that as a starting gun, he turned around on unstable legs and leaned forward into a dead run, trying with all his might to stay upright and not fall to the ground. While it would have been a terrible mistake before, his blind run was never met with a deafening impact that would seal his fate.
Nothing happened. No truck barreling into him. He didn’t even want to look over his shoulder because he knew that would lead him to trip. That would make him fall. That would be his final blunder.
Of course, he was stupid to think that he made it into the clear. A gunshot rang out from behind him, the sound racing up the buildings around him before a blinding pain lit up his lower leg. That did it. With a cry, Maverick fell to the ground, his forearms and elbows eating up even more asphalt and leaving a bloody trail of skin. His foot burned as if it were on fire, and only now, as he was prone on the ground like game ready to be put out of his misery, he sent a bleary look over his shoulder.
Only to find that Deadeye was nowhere in sight.
Did he leave?
Maverick wasn’t going to stick around and entertain that question. His breathing became heavier and heavier, morphing into pants of pain and pure overexertion. If Deadeye couldn’t be seen, then Maverick had no idea where he was. He wasn’t going to wait to be ambushed.
With a great strain, he pushed himself off the ground, gritting his teeth and crying out from the effort. Everything hurt. He wasn’t sure if there was still an inch of him that wasn’t bruised or bleeding. Even his cheek pounded horribly and he had the vague feeling that the part of his skull was now shattered where he had been punched.
Trying to see through the haze of pain, he envisioned his and Junpei’s house in his mind, trying to pour all of his focus on it. Using his good leg, he kicked himself off the ground, which prompted a great rush of delirium and pain shooting through him. But he ended up doing what he wanted.
Maverick teleported away to safety, leaving a few bloodstained feathers to drop to the ground.
