Post by Genzen Sudeki on Jul 22, 2023 23:00:51 GMT -5
With the flag strapped to his back and two miles of distance to cover Genzen tried his best to control his breathing. He was wounded, tired, and barely able to hold himself up against this tree. Looking at the forest he knew the way back, but there was no telling how spread out his enemies were, or where his allies were. He couldn't use his Seikatsugan anymore he was fully out of energy. He'd have to rely on normal senses if he wanted to sneak.
~If I stick low and move slow-~
Pain.
Swift and sudden piercing pain his him in the right shoulder. A quick burning sensation caused him to cry out as some sort of fire projectile had hit and seared into his shoulder. He could only tell it came from his right side so he took off. He had to put distance. He had to run he had to push, he had to dig deep. He was on fumes and then some. He had no idea where this reserve of energy was coming from just that if he didn't run and get to his objective he was going to feel more pain. On a good day he can run two miles comfortably in about thirty minutes. He was going to have to do this while thing in a sprint, dodging and weaving through trees, bushes, and enemies. He wasn't sure if he could make better time or worse.
The sound of projectiles whizzing by or hitting things around him, causing dirt, bark, and other hot, hard, or sharp debris to hit him like shrapnel at random. He couldn't predict the attack at all, he couldn't look at to where the attacks are coming from. It was pitch dark, they could likely track him with their abilities to see his life energy. Locked in and likely easily tracked the only thing he could do.
Run.
His lungs were on fire, his legs were numb, and his hands felt tingly. He was thirsty, and he wasn't even sure if he was sweating anymore, but he felt cold. How long had he been running now? Hiding was no use now that he'd been spotted. Was he faster than all of them? Did it matter if they could simply line up a clean shot?
All he could hear now was the beating of blood flowing through his body passing his ears. His own breathing was like a distant echo. His body was screaming for him to stop so it could throw up, but he knew there was nothing to puke and it'd just be him accepting defeat at that point. Though he couldn't strategize as a burst of flames erupted to his left like a pillar of flames. It staggered him to his right, his legs were noodles not letting him maintain much of his balance before it threatened to make him fall.
He couldn't fall, if he fell that would be the end. There was no way he was going to get back up.
~If I stick low and move slow-~
Pain.
Swift and sudden piercing pain his him in the right shoulder. A quick burning sensation caused him to cry out as some sort of fire projectile had hit and seared into his shoulder. He could only tell it came from his right side so he took off. He had to put distance. He had to run he had to push, he had to dig deep. He was on fumes and then some. He had no idea where this reserve of energy was coming from just that if he didn't run and get to his objective he was going to feel more pain. On a good day he can run two miles comfortably in about thirty minutes. He was going to have to do this while thing in a sprint, dodging and weaving through trees, bushes, and enemies. He wasn't sure if he could make better time or worse.
The sound of projectiles whizzing by or hitting things around him, causing dirt, bark, and other hot, hard, or sharp debris to hit him like shrapnel at random. He couldn't predict the attack at all, he couldn't look at to where the attacks are coming from. It was pitch dark, they could likely track him with their abilities to see his life energy. Locked in and likely easily tracked the only thing he could do.
Run.
His lungs were on fire, his legs were numb, and his hands felt tingly. He was thirsty, and he wasn't even sure if he was sweating anymore, but he felt cold. How long had he been running now? Hiding was no use now that he'd been spotted. Was he faster than all of them? Did it matter if they could simply line up a clean shot?
All he could hear now was the beating of blood flowing through his body passing his ears. His own breathing was like a distant echo. His body was screaming for him to stop so it could throw up, but he knew there was nothing to puke and it'd just be him accepting defeat at that point. Though he couldn't strategize as a burst of flames erupted to his left like a pillar of flames. It staggered him to his right, his legs were noodles not letting him maintain much of his balance before it threatened to make him fall.
He couldn't fall, if he fell that would be the end. There was no way he was going to get back up.