Source Proxy - Act 1: The Holy Lands of the old and future Kings

Throbbing pain aches across my brain, forcing my eyes open. Everything is out of focus, but I can barely tell with how dark this place is. Funny enough, my glasses are resting on my chest. Now that I can see normally, I wish I could do something about this headache. It sucks that I can’t heal headaches. Whatever, I’ll just have to grin and bear it.

“Proxy…Nunnalé?”

Am I in the bus? Wait, what happened to Alexander and Proxy!? And that blonde boy… Crap, even when I enhanced my body, his attack still knocked me out. I guess I didn’t enhance enough to withstand the impact on whatever I hit; specifically my head.

I shuffle out of the bus, using the seats to move to the front end. My strength is returning, but I’ll need to be careful when I step out of the bus. The doors by pulling the lever near the driver seat. An orange flame, further away from me, illuminates the inside of these wrecked buildings. They’ve been cleared of rubble, for the most part, allowing space to be made for the bus and everyone else. Luckily enough, the ceiling is missing.

“This sensation…”

My headache grows stronger from the overwhelming sense of negativity coming from some of the residents of this temporary camp. It’s heavy, stirring up my brain like a blending machine, turning my brain into mush.

From the tent with “Medical” on it, a girl with a short set of beautiful purple hair comes out. Her gaze turns to me. “Master Richard!” She flashes over to me in the blink of an eye. I jump back, alarmed by her sudden approach. “Master Richard, are you okay!?” She helps me up from the ground and dusts me off. “I apologize if my sudden acceleration of movement frightened you.”

“No, it’s fine… But what happened to your hair?”

“It was cut by an enemy, but other than that, I am fine.”

Her long, smooth hair has been cut short without any thought. It’s not like it's bad, but she’s going to need someone to fix up her hair. And as much as I’d like to, I’m not a hairstylist.

“Master Richard, allow me to report everything that has transpired thus far.”

“Go ahead.”

Nunnalé relays everything to me in exact detail, about the blonde hair boy, Cade being a Source-user, and the arrival of the other Source-user that Proxy called “Ocean”. If I wasn’t unconscious… No, there’s no point in regretting not being able to talk with that man. The only thing I really regret is not being there to help.

What concerns me is Cade being a Source-user. I learned to vaguely use it with the help of the book Selena gave me, but even then I was having trouble, so how did he learn to control his? More than that, it’s surprising to see that he can use Source. Ever since I learned how to view Source coming from others, I learned that everyone else barely emits any; theirs seem weaker, if that’s the proper way of saying it. But Proxy doesn’t have any surrounding him, none whatsoever.

“Okay, I understand the situation. Do you think Ocean and Cade are still fighting?”

She silently nods. “I doubt it. The one you call ‘Ocean’ was stronger than Cade, so the answer is blatant. Moreover, it appeared that Cade learned to control it recently.”

“I see, what was he able to do?” She looks confused yet ashamed. “You don’t know?”

“No, he never showed an ability. However, he was able to overpower me. I am deeply ashamed of my ability to gather information on the enemy, as well as losing.”

“Hey, there’s no need to get upset. That’s because you didn’t have a lot of Source to work with.”

“Even so, I still have superior strength without Source, yet, he overpowered me.”

“Then he’s a Guardian-type.”

“I am uncertain. It is probable, but I feel as if it would be too soon to judge.”

She’s right, we shouldn’t assume anything for now. But what about Ocean? Why is he even here to begin with? More importantly, why did he save Nunnalé and Marie…? Either way, the situation in this city is delicate. Not only do we have to deal with bandits, but a murderous Source-user as well. Things just keep getting better and better.

“...So what about Marie? Is she okay?”

An unexpected expression of concern plagues her face, only for a second, however. “I am unsure. She appeared to be mentally stable, now she's returned to her previous state.”

Cade’s arrival likely caused that, and it troubles me that he and that blonde boy were working together. None of this is good; just all-around bad news. And I can’t do anything to help Marie…

“Master Richard, if I may ask. Would it be okay if I could observe Marie?”

“Why?”

“I know this is a selfish request, and it goes against my sworn duties to you. However, I wish to watch her…”

She’s staring back at me with a somewhat passionate expression that goes against her neutral expression.

“Nunnalé, how do you feel about Marie?”

A question seemingly fit for the conversation, but I’m not even thinking how it fits into the conversation.

“How do I feel? Do you mean an objective statement?”

“No, I mean your personal opinion. What do you think of her.”

Her vacant expression returns, seemingly confused about my line of questioning. “I do not know how to answer.”

“Come on, it’s not that hard. Just think about it. How do you feel being around here?”

“Hmm…”

She’s kind of, not to be rude, dim to her own feelings and emotions, so she has a hard time telling if she’s even feeling anything, and this translates to how she acts. While I’m not sure about this, this is my best guess.

“...I would say…the way she acts as a male at times is odd.” My heart stops with a dull thump, and the air inside drops to ice-cold levels. “...Which is odd, considering she would have what Proxy called, ‘girly tendencies’.”

I take a heavy gulp, blinking more than usual. “What…what would that mean?”

“For instance, she obsesses over her figure, stating, and I quote, ‘muscle is necessary, however, too much is a bad thing for a woman’. Marie’s figure does have the delicate balance of muscle, keeping them toned while balancing out her body’s shape would take a considerable level of observation of one's body.”

This is getting dangerous. A conversation like this is only going to invite trouble with some karmic force; even if I don’t believe in that stuff, I have a feeling that’s where this is heading.

“D-did Marie tell you all this?”

“Indeed. We had this conversation while bathing together. This came about when she was observing my body, quoting I had a–”

My hands shot up to cover her mouth. “Y-you don’t have to tell me, okay?” She moves my hands, baffled.

“Do you not wish to hear what I have to say?”

The problem is that I might want to!

“This is not what I meant! Forget it! Any more and I feel like my heart will skyrocket in pulsation.”

“I am sorry that I was not able to fulfill your curiosity,” she says without a change in expression. “...However, if there is something of note, it would… Well, forgive me for rambling, but whenever I see her, my stomach twists and turns.”

If I don’t know any better, could that be…

“You have knots in your stomach?”

“Knots?”

“When you feel anxiety.”

“Anxiety? How come?”

“I wouldn’t know. But I guess that means you’re worried about Marie.”

She takes on no strong emotions over the statement. Instead, she ponders what I said, tracing her chin with her index finger. “Puzzling, but I understand. Then I am concerned for her.” Sounds weird when she puts it like that, but it’s not a bad thing, so it’s whatever.

“Master Richard, do you wish to accompany me to see Marie?”

“Sure, but I want to go look for Proxy, so you can go without me.”

“I fear that would be dangerous given this unpredictable situation.”

“All the more reason to go find him and the rest.”

“Then allow me to accompany you.”

“I thought you wanted to be with Marie?”

“You are a higher priority, Master Richard, my wishes and others are below that priority.”

It still scares me how she’s able to dismiss everything and everyone else just for me. But if there are more Source-users, then I wouldn’t want to encounter them on my own.

“Fine. Do you know where they went?”

“No, however, I imagine that they are still in the south area of the city, like us.”

“Then all we need to do is take to the air and search around.”

“Of course. I’ll take us into the air, so allow me to carry you.”

“Right, umm… Can we at least get somewhere…private before you do?”

“Is there a problem?”

“No, but there’s a whole different issue with people seeing me carried by you.”

She seems even more confused than she was before. Honestly, if there was something I wish Nunnalé would develop quickly, it’d be a sense of shame.

Laguna - South-west - midnight

After that whole business with the bodies. Alex said that we would get back to camp without the guys who went back for their dead friends. He probably doesn’t want me to see the bodies while we’re walking back. I wanna say that it doesn’t bother me, that he’s worrying over nothing, but I’d just be lying. Seeing them like that made me sick to my stomach. Even if it was for a moment, their deformed bodies are burned into my mind.

That bastard Jed did that. Crazy-ass freak! When I see that son of a bitch, I’ll rip his goddamn head off! People like him deserve no mercy. I learned that with Walter, and I’m never gonna take it easy on people like that!

“Excuse me.” Garrick’s monotone voice drags me out of my thoughts. “...May we make a slight detour?”

“Is something the matter, sir Garrick?” Alex addresses him with an honorific.

“My things are in a building near this area. I have equipment that may help with the bandits.”

“Certainly. If you have anything that could assist us, we would be grateful.”

“Yeah right, we’re fine without him,” I mutter under my breath.

“Last time I checked, you almost died without my assistance,” he retorts, getting me good with that jab at the gut.

“Sure, whatever you say.”

Kinda pisses me off that he’s right, but I ain’t gonna let him have this one. There’s just something I don’t like about him. There are times when you meet someone, even though you haven’t spoken to each other once and they haven’t done anything to you, you just get that gut feeling in the depths of your stomach, telling you that and that person can’t like one another. And trust me, as a punk, I get this feeling a lot.

Garrick sticks his thumb at me. “In which case, I’ll lead the way. Let’s hurry so that the boy doesn’t lose to his impatience.”

“Huh!? What was that, asshole!? You got something you wanna say?”

“Not at all. In fact, I fear saying anything to you would be a waste of breath.”

His blank expression only pisses me off more. It’s like he’s saying I ain’t worth his time.

“You wanna go, you old bastard!?”

“No, I have no intention of fighting children.”

An audible growl escapes from my mouth. This guy…!

“Hmph, fine! I don’t wanna be the one responsible for breaking your bones, old man.”

He scoffs, turning away and leading on to his hideout. Getting there took about 10 minutes of walking through rubble and shabby buildings, ready to come down any second now. Making it through a shortcut he leads us through, we meet with an untouched building, sticking out like a sore thumb from the fact that it doesn’t even have a hole in the roof. Made from timber wood, it’s a single-story building, medium-sized at best.

“This is it,” Garrick says, walking up to the building without a care in the world.

“Hmm?”

Chip stares at the flag. Has a design with a city being illuminated by the sun. Kinda tacky if you ask me.

“Yo, there a problem?” I casually ask.

“Nah, I was just looking at the flag.”

Geez, if he keeps acting like that, I’m gonna start thinking this place is haunted. Last thing we need to deal with is a haunted house.

Garrick pushes open the wooden door. The hinges creak like they’re gonna come apart any second. A grand dining hall, covered in cobwebs and packed full of dust. A wild stench overpowers my nose, forcing me to cover it up. The dry air in here makes it hard to breathe. I doubt anyone could have a nice meal in a place like this, let alone any shut-eye

“You live in this dump,” I jeer, pointing my thumb at the dust-covered dining hall.

“It has a roof, walls, and beds, that’s good enough for me.”

“I mean I get it, but you could at least do a little spring cleaning in this joint.”

I have to cover my mouth and nose with my shirt just to stand this place. This is why I keep my apartment clean… Wait! I’ve been gone for months, so that means dust has accumulated in my place! Oh God, please don’t tell me it got on my clothes, shoes, or even my consoles!

Gil scans the hall, not all that bothered by the dust in here. “This place is cozy.”

“Yeah, same way being buried 6ft under is comfy,” Chip remarks, obviously uncomfortable with the place like I am.

“Is this where people feasted?” Alex’s muffled voice poses a question.

“It was. The people of this city used to have diners here during victories, raising their spirits for the next battle, and to celebrate the lives of their deceased when someone died.”

“Sounds like The Day of The Dead.”

I swear my shoes are just soaking up all the dust from this place, and I can practically smell this place’s age. If we can get this guy’s shit and skedaddle, that would be awesome.

“Down here, in the cellar, I’ll grab my things and we can leave.”

Alex follows him down there.

“Great, so we gotta wait to get out of the haunted mansion,” I suck my teeth at the end, strutting into a room next to us. Looks like a room for one, and the bed. Is that blood? Seems pretty damn old.

“This place got nothing but dust, cobwebs, and blood all over the damn beds,” Chip hollers from the other end of the place.

“Same here,” I shout back, yanking the sheets off the bed with gusto

Hm? A tear in the bed? No, that looks like a sword made that tear… “Eh, whatever.” Not like it means much to me, so whatever.

“Wait, so if Garrick lives in a place like this, then that means he lives in Laguna,” I suddenly clue together when the thought just popped into my head.

“Uh, yeah, duh,” as expected, Chip mocks me for it.

“No, like, why does he live here? Why does a renowned knight live on the outside, let alone in a dump like this?’

“That’s… Yeah, that’s a good question.”

“Maybe he just wanted to get away after failing to protect the royal family,” Gil adds to the convo.

“Failed?”

“Come on, man. He obviously wasn't able to stop some folks from the outside from killing them.”

“Oh, yeah… But wouldn’t he still be taking care of Relius or something like that?”

“Don’t know. All the details are up in the air, and the only one to shed light would be in the kingdom.”

“Then did Sigurd die during all that action?”

“Yeah. Said he died during the sudden attack.”

Sounds like that night was just one bad incident after another.

“I’m hungry,” Gil announces like a child saying he wants fast food for dinner.

“Yeah, me too, man. But as much as a wizard I am in the kitchen, this place probably only serves dust here.”

“Never know, it could taste good,” Chip snickers at his own joke.

“Have you eaten dust before?” Gil returns with a genuine question.

“It was a joke, big guy.”

“It wasn’t all that funny then,” Gil laughs, serving him up a hot one.

“Damn, you just got burned!”

Chip clicks his teeth, facing away from us. “Yeah, yeah, very funny.”

This funny little distraction is nice, helps me forget that we’re standing in the middle of this creepy ass place. Damnit, now I’m thinking about this place again. Screw it, I’m leaving for some fresh air.

“I’m going outside. I can’t stand the air in here.”

“‘Kay, we’ll go down to see if Garrick is all packed… But Proxy, speaking of Garrick, anything suspicious about him?”

“Nothing.” Still don’t like the guy, but I can’t say he’s done anything worth suspecting. “Aight, I’m going.”

Shoving my hands into my pockets, I leave the building. My restrained breathing returns to its former rhythm. Geez, I felt like I was gonna suffocate in there, and I feel dirty just being in there. Seriously, if my apartment is lined with dust, I’ll cry… But so much shit happened here recently. That old man, the fur-coat-wearing freak, and Cade… So much shit. My head is spinning. I just hope everyone else is okay, especially Marie; she’s been put through the wringer. God knows she isn’t up for a fight right now, and with Cade around, things could go from 0 to 100 real quick…

“I just have to fight. That’s all I can do. Even if it is Cade, I’ll protect everyone.”

Laguna - South-West - Midnight

In the dead of night, where not a soul remains, Jed sits in the middle of the brick-layered road, tapping the side of his boots on the ground. The only light during a night like this comes from the moon and the stars. Without them, visibility would be terrible.

He searches around for a certain individual who he’s supposed to meet. It’s not like he’s in the wrong location. As a matter of fact, he’s on time. His associate’s tardiness sets him off a little, not enough to blow a gasket, but he does feel upset.

“Ah, so you actually showed.”

A large, older man reveals himself from the corner of a building from the far end of the street. He marches up to Jed, overshadowing him with his imposing figure.

Instead of greeting him with a charming smile, he pouts while tapping his feet. “You know, being on time shows manners. And you are surprised I actually showed.”

“Sorry, I was stalled for a while, added with the fact it was a long trek. I hope next time you will not make me walk all the way here; I am an old man, after all.”

“...Oh, right. It slipped my mind.”

He acts coy, but he doesn't want to admit he didn't think of the distance and the time it would have take for the old man to reach this place.

“So, about what we discussed,” the old man opens the conversation. “Do you think you can bring out such a thing?”

“Not I, but Cade. I surmise that he will be the one to bring it about.”

“Cade?”

“Oh, I mean the boy I’m following. He’s the rather gloomy-looking fellow.”

“Ah, I remember. Wildcard told me about him. He said there was something amiss with him.”

“I wouldn’t say amiss. This is a step in his natural evolution.”

“Natural evolution?”

“He harbors strong killing intent, as well as hatred for the bandits. So strong it always had the chance to consume him. Now, it has begun to do just that.”

To say the least, the old man's curiosity is piqued.

“And you think he has become stronger for it?”

“No, no. I don’t ‘think’, I know it has. The attack at the bridge was our doing.”

The old man isn’t stunned by this. In fact, he doesn’t care that they died; to him, they were no more important than a bug crawling on the ground. They lacked the strength to leave an impression on him. So, the fact Cade’s group dispatched them was of no significance to him.

“Your point?”

“He slaughtered them without a second thought. It was as if he was possessed by his murderous drive.”

“I will admit, the scene was gruesome. But what are you getting at? I despise conversations that take too long to reach the point.”

“Right. I will direct Cade and he will launch an all-out war on the bandits in this city, returning this war-torn city to those battlefields. Cade will be the spark, he will bring a fire that shall recreate the battlefield of the Godfrey age.” Slowly, the smile on his face turned to a creepy grin that revealed all the evil inside him, and the insanity that boiled in the pits of his soul. “...Death will paint this town, the smell of blood will loom in the air, and the battle cries of war will ring throughout the land!”

The idea fascinates the old man. A battlefield fitting for a warrior of his caliber. Nothing in this world would give him more pleasure than to take part in a battlefield where only the strongest are allowed to live. He can see it now - the blood in his system pumping from the thought of a glorious battle to the death; you can even say he feels a sense of euphoria from the idea.

“...Are you sure he can bring this about?”

“Of course! However…he isn’t there just yet. He needs a final push.”

And therein lies the problem in Jed’s plan. How would he be able to push someone like Cade, who had practically gone off the deep end, into a darker pit than the one he is in? No matter how Jed looks at it, it seems pretty much impossible to do so. Thinking isn’t his strong suit. Most of the time, Jed uses his gut to decide things, even allowing it to steer him in the right direction…

Suddenly, Jed goes into an alerted stance, aiming his spear at a building next to him. Two figures retreat behind a wall, but it was too late. Before Jed can detach the chain to his guiding bar, one of the eavesdroppers shows themself.

“Wedge? And I assume the second one behind there is Puck, correct?”

“You are collaborating with bandits,” Wedge ignores Jed’s question, cutting straight to the matter at hand.

Jed frowns, tapping his feet on the ground. “Hmm… I suppose I am, but at the same time, not really.” Wedge scowls, frustrated with how easily Jed waved off the matter. “...Now answer me: is Puck back there?”

Wedge bites his lip, keeping his eyes centered on Jed, shooting the occasional glance at the old man. He knows he’s a terrible liar, so he goes with silence.

“Is this going to be a problem?” the old man asks Jed, somewhat amused by the sudden turn of events.

“No, at least I hope not.”

“How could you do this, Jed?”

“But I have done nothing wrong. I helped you all fight against the bandits, so I see no problem.”

“Cade is not your toy!”

Wedge wants nothing more than to run over there and beat him to a pulp, but against Jed, he would lose the moment he moved. Puck, on the other hand, makes her move, sneaking behind the rubble scattered around the lower level of the building.

“I do not see Cade as a toy.”

“That’s not how you made it sound!”

“You should not force your assumptions about me. It is quite rude, I’ll have you know.”

Ending it off with a charming smile that hides his true intentions, Wedge clenches his fist, digging his fingernails into the palm of his hands.

“Stop that! Stop with that fake-ass smile!”

Then, like a puzzle piece to a complicated jigsaw puzzle, the final piece of his plan clicks in his head.

“You are right, Wedge; Cade is no more than a toy. A toy I shall use whenever I wish, and however I like.” Wedge grits his teeth, trying to put up with his insulting words, and Puck can barely contain her rage, just wanting to shoot him square in the forehead. “...Everyone back there is a toy. Snap, snap, snap, that is the sound a toy makes when you break it…” The charming smile Jed always wears contorts into a malicious grin, as if all the evil inside a man personified itself as an expression. “...Every single toy there will break, but I wonder how long it will take for Cade to break?”

Wedge’s anger hit its climax. Blood runs from his hand and lips, and Puck’s hatred for this man goes past its limit. She gives in to her killing intent and shoots up to her feet. Before she could aim, Jed had already launched an attack on her. Wedge, greatly aware of their reaction time to the other, races off to Puck.

It rips through the lower floor without delay, tearing up anything in its path. Jed’s weapon is terrifying in close-quarters combat, capable of tearing apart the human body in a mere moment of contact with the rotating blades. However, this weapon is as deadly from long-range as well, able to extend up to eight meters. Even against cemented walls, it would cut through it like paper mache.

“Hmm, far too much smoke here… Perhaps I might have overdone it. What do you think?”

“Restraint takes manners,” the old man remarks,

“I figured–”

A battle cry interrupts Jed, who looks back at the smoke. Wedge charges out of it, running for Jed, who slams the shaft on his head. A direct hit to the cranium, however, doesn’t stop Wedge for a moment. He decks Jed right in the face, utilizing all the power he can bring out. It was enough to draw blood from Jed’s nose.

“Oh my, what a spirited child, and with an injury like that,” the old man mused, rubbing his chin.

Jed wipes the blood from his nostrils, in awe of Wedge's determination. “Yes, spirited indeed.”

Wedge managed to beat the chain by a hair’s breadth. He was successful in pushing Puck out of harm’s way, at a cost…

“...WEDGE!”

Puck’s visceral scream resounds throughout the area, even outdoing Wedge’s loudest scream.

“Puck, get back! Do not come here!”

“But...your arm!”

The cost of saving Puck’s life was his left arm. It was severed the second it connected with his arm. Pain burns away where his arm used to be, like a fire burning a phantom limb that's not even there. Brimming with adrenaline, he can fight off the pain, but the wound cuts into his stamina and overall strength.

Jed does not wait for another moment and goes in intending to neutralize him. He takes advantage of Wedge’s disability by aiming for his left with a powerful kick. A gap in his defense that leaves him in major pain. But he persisted, pushing the offensive further. Jed slips under any attack Wedge throws, countering every time and whittling his stamina little by little. Then, using Wedge’s momentum against him, Jed flips him to his back. He crushes his gut with a devastating blow from his fist.

Jed has a natural understanding of momentum and balance. Without this understanding, he would not be able to use his weapon as fluently, let alone bring out its destructive potential. With all of Wedge’s weight shifting into his right, all he has to do is take advantage of that balance shift.

“It seems as if this is the end,” the old man sighs, bored with how Wedge performed.

“I cannot allow you or Puck to live. But do not fret. I will make sure Cade is aware of your deaths.”

Puck, having lost her gun in the building, hurries to Wedge. She doesn't care if she lost her weapon; she'll use her teeth if she has to. The old man moves swiftly, barely making a sound. He simply smacks her to the side. The force behind his hand is as great as if he hit her with a fist.

“I’ll deal with the girl,” the old giant says.

“Thank you. Please make it quick for her; I hate seeing people in pain.”

A statement that seems like a lie, but it is not. His sense of morality is warped, acting as though he is a kind person that would not like to see people harmed or hurt, but would cause such harm if it furthered his goals. Jed is a man of twisted morals and terrifying goals.

“Wedge, before I end your life, do you have anything you wish to say? We were allies after all; it is only fitting for me to allow you to speak.”

His breathing is strained, his arm is burning, and his stomach is wrecked. At this point, speaking would be impossible at this point…

Wedge’s life revolves around the people he loves; Cade, Puck, and many more. Without them, he doubts his life would have much meaning. He always did what was best for his friends, even when it got him hurt. However, even though he knew about Cade’s inner turmoil, he had no idea how to pull him out of it. So, he helped Cade fight the bandits at each and every turn, unknowingly letting the hatred in Cade’s heart grow more violent as the days passed.

Maybe if he told Cade to slow down, what if they never fought the bandits in the first place, or maybe if their village was never burned down, things would have been different. In the end, he was unable to protect his older brother, the only parental figure he knew, and keep his friend from falling into darkness. He can't go out like this, he refuses to die with all these regrets looming over him.

With a deep breath, he inhales all the oxygen he can, pumping it into his lungs. Then, expelling the air inside all at once, he roars into the night sky, tearing his vocal cord a new one. The sound is overwhelming, rumbling the insides of everyone’s heads from its sheer volume. He isn't scream out of frustration, but that someone will hear him. A final play that relies on his luck.

“Kill him already,” the old man, annoyed with his final plea for help, orders Jed.

“Yes, I know!”

Jed lifts his spear, revving the blades to slice through Wedge’s chest. Right at that moment, a blur darts past the old man’s notice for a second. A delayed reaction paints the old man’s face; surprise, yet intrigued by what managed to slip past his vision. Jed realizes too late, suffering a blow to the face. Two feet pushed together, creating a destructive force that throws him away from Wedge. The new arrival leaped into the air when he closed in on his target, twisting his body and delivering an excellent attack.

Blood gashes out of Jed’s nose, blanketing the ground below him red.

“You…you!”

Wedge's hoarse voice mutters out. For a moment, he doesn't believe that this person came to save him. The last person he ever thought would want to save him, yet he's here. However, he feels a satisfied to know that this person came to his aid; the only person who he sees being capable of saving Cade and everyone else from Jed: Proxy.

“Your arm!? Did they do this?” he gasps, looking at where his friend's arm used to be.

“Please…please… Cade… Don’t…”

Using up the last of his strength, Cade passes out. With the alarming amount of blood lost, the fact he was able to stay conscious was nothing more than a miracle. Proxy quickly rips off the other sleeve from Wedge's shirt, using that to patch up his wound.

“What an unexpected appearance! What brings you here, Proxy?”

The boy wearing his goggles drills holes into Jed, who stands ready with his spear. Extreme, uncontrolled anger flares up in Proxy, doing away with any rational thought in his brain, leaving him with the primal instinct to destroy the enemy in front of him.

“Jed… I’m gonna bust your fuckin’ jaw open!”

This declaration couldn't have made Jed any more happy; because if he made Proxy this angry, he can't imagine how Cade will react. The thought makes him giddy with excitement.

"Then by all means, bring all you have."

The second round between the spearman and the punk is underway, and this encounter is sure to bring about a preview of the battlefield soon to come.