"What do you mean we're dropping his Long Term Enforced Employment contract? Being chosen as a vanguard just increased his value significantly, and think of all the extra debt we can pile on for the damages to the facility."

  "We're not fucking Amazon, Willis. That 'Family' group will raze our facilities and turn the entire board into a red smear if we try to keep him to that. Best to let him go and cut our losses, hell there's a snowballs chance in hell he looks more favourable on us for it."

  — Meeting between the COO and CSO of Regent Pharmaceutical, shortly after the initialization of the Samurai Foxglove

  The pair left the indoor warehouse room, Elliot in front with his strange rifle, Quinn and Cassie thunking along a couple of paces behind with the club at the ready in the mech’s hands.

  They got about two thirds of the way to the stairs down before finding company. Elliot held up a hand as shuffling in the distance turned into rapid skittering, and they backpedalled to get some distance.

  After a couple of moments a large pack of eight model-3s clattered into view. Elliot immediately fell into the plan they had discussed, sweeping a fusillade across the corridor, peppering the oncoming enemies with projectiles and sending streaks of sap across the walls. Several stumbled, and one collapsed, never to get up again.

  The rifle changed from blue to purple and then red as it clicked empty. Elliot stepped back behind Cassie to reload and she took a step forward. Irys had explained that kills with her equipment leant out or not directly controlled by her would still give Quinn points, but reduced. Elliot had suggested a plan to compensate - he’d focus on crippling the antithesis as they approached, and Quinn would finish them off to net more points.

  She stepped forward, swinging the kanabo in a wide arc as the frontrunners got within range. With a crunch and three slight reductions in momentum the trio of pack leaders were turned into pulp. The rest were not far behind, and Quinn worked the controls to bring the club back to bear.

  A second and third swing saw the canine antithesis 4 and 5 out of commission, but number 6 managed to duck under Quinn’s unpracticed swing. With the enemy now in front of her reach, she unclasped the right hand to land a mechanized punch as it prepared to leap at her. Sap sprayed her arms in the cockpit as its head caved in.

  She caught a glimpse of the last already way too close for comfort, but thankfully just as she was about to attempt to ward it off a trio of shots rang out, blasting it to the ground where it was easy pickings for a quick head stomp.

  “Shit, thanks Elliot” Quinn exclaimed as she let out the breath she’d been holding with a shudder.

  “Sure, lets keep moving” Elliot was curt but not unkind.

  They ran into another small pack of threes before they hit the stairs, each dragging a corpse each along to.. Somewhere. They were dispatched without much issue, but seeing more dead left Quinn dreading they weren't going to find anyone left alive, and it was that sense of urgency that nearly got her killed a minute or so later.

  Quinn was trying to fight off the growing spiral as she and Elliot hurried into one of the cargo elevators when she suddenly caught something out of the corner of her eye. A twisting mass of tentacles darting directly towards her from some high perch wrapped around the club and her neck from behind before she could touch the controls, and she thought in that brief moment her head was going to be ripped from her neck before suddenly the tentacles went slack.

  She pawed at the limbs around her neck, gasping for a breath the moment she could free her esophagus, before letting out a choked sob. Her neck hurt, and she shuddered as the reality of the situation set in. Despite several close calls and serious injuries this had prompted the most visceral fear of death response yet.

  “I.Irys, how bad is it? What do I need?”

  “It's a sprain darling. Your companion reacted with great celerity and put down the model 4 before it could do any real damage, thankfully. You need to be more careful.”

  And then Elliot was there, removing the rest of the tentacles from her shoulders and looking at her with those big blue eyes full of concern. It was enough to burst the dam, and then she was openly weeping into his shoulder.

  “I'm so so sorry Quinn, you're okay, you're okay. I should have been paying attention to the ceiling - I knew ambush models were a thing. Only a little to go and we'll be at the shelter, Okay? Can you stay with me till then?”

  She nodded, her emotions allowing control of her thoughts back after the release of a cry. She reluctantly let go of the half hug she found herself in with Elliot, wiped her eyes to ensure she could see again and grabbed Cassie’s two control sticks once more. She didn't think she'd still be alive without Elliot keeping her afloat at this point, and blushed a little at the thought.

  The elevator rumbled to a stop on the 7th floor and the two figures, one human sized and larger, stepped into the corridor looking in opposite directions. After confirming there were no antithesis in sight, they hurried down the short stretch before finding themselves in front of the large, vault-like door of the shelter that was currently shut tight. With an eye turned towards the corridor, Elliot approached the intercom and thumbed the touchscreen.

  “We have two survivors outside, the coast is clear for now, can you open to let us in real quick?”

  It was silent for a minute or so, before the intercom crackled and a gravely woman’s voice came back with the kind of fake giving-a-shit tone that is a requirement of HR training.

  “Sorry, but no. Company policy states that when a shelter is closed, it is only to be opened mid-incursion for a presidental level employee or above. I wish you the best of luck finding another shelter”

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  Elliot let out an exasperated sigh.

  “Let me rephrase, we have a survivor and a samurai outside, are you going to let us in or are we going to have to force the issue.”

  “If you’re a samurai I’m sure you’ll be fine outside. That's your job, isn’t it? do you...” the woman’s tirade was cut off briefly, before a different voice responded this time.

  “Of course sir, stand back we’ll open it up a crack while it's clear.”

  There was a hiss and the seals on the large fortified door released. Quinn and Elliot took a step back as the door swung open 30 degrees. Quinn reluctantly began to hop down from Cassie’s seat before Elliot called out “Another 15 degrees or so, we have an upgraded loader mech to fit through”. Shooting him a look, he shrugged and beckoned her on as the door swung that little bit further to allow Cassie entry.

  Inside they were greeted by a lapelled security officer in Amazon security gear flanked by a couple of her squad. Another two security personnel seemed to have brought an irate looking older woman in a black business pantsuit off to the side where she was eyeing the situation with growing fury. The control console sat to their left and what looked like an office a little further, cubicles and all. To their right was an armory of sorts, seeming to be filled with various firearms, ammunition, security grade armored suits and riot shields. The corridor deeper into the shelter sat across from the vault door. As they stepped through, the lead officer paused briefly for the deep clunk of the sealing door before addressing them in person.

  “Samurai, my name is Officer Jensen, this is Officer Willins and Officer Brown, we apologize for the unprofessional behavior of our colleague, she clearly hasn’t taken the required incursion safety training this year.” This elicited a scoff from pantsuit. “What is your intention now you’ve delivered this civilian to safety?”

  Elliot shot a questioning glance at Quinn, and she suddenly put the pieces together; they thought he was the samurai of the two. She seriously considered for a second letting the ruse continue to avoid having to deal with the social anxiety of taking command, but decided against it.

  “I’m planning on taking a breather, I got injured a few times on the way here, and I need to figure out what to spend my points on. But first, did anyone from warehouse 43 make it here?”

  Officer Jensen mostly managed to keep her composure when she realised she’d been addressing the wrong person, giving nothing more than a brief widening of the eyes away.

  “Uh yes Ma'am, I think so? We can escort you to find you if you’d like?”

  Quinn mutely shook her head and slipped down from the loader mech. “We’ll be fine, we can find the warehouse 43 group ourselves”

  “Very well, Ma’am.”

  It didn’t take them too long to find what was left of warehouse 43; Tim’s laughter could be heard from the corridor as they ducked into one of the shelter’s several cramped dormitories. There were a little over a dozen people huddled into one corner of the room where Tim was telling some embarrassing story about a managerial costume party, while a couple of others were tending to various wounds. A few more people she didn’t recognize were keeping to themselves on the other end of the room - likely from a different warehouse. As they stepped in, Tim’s eyes swept over them and then came alight.

  “Takimura! Ruthers! You’re alive! We’d assumed you’d died to that pack of dog antithesis.”

  Tim’s exuberance was infectious enough to get Quinn to crack a smile, as Elliot, seemingly back to his gentler self, responded.

  “It was a close call, Quinn hopped in Cassie and smashed basically the whole pack to pieces, it was amazing to see.”

  While Quinn blushed a little, Tim’s smile somehow grew wider and he clapped her on the shoulder.

  “That must be why that pack didn't follow us, thank the board for that! I'm glad we got you that piloting certification now! And now at least half the floor survived; though, looking at that samurai tech Elliot is holding, I'm guessing I'm still going to be down at least one more associate”

  The rest of the small group was watching them now, with most eyes on the alien rifle Elliot was still cradling. Sarah was there being treated for what seemed like a nasty shoulder wound, and she made an effort not to look at either of them.

  “Well, not much to do other than sit back and try to relax for us. Ask Paul if you want some water or food, he's managing our supplies, it’s the least we can do. Now, where was I-” Quinn somewhat tuned him out as he resumed his story from earlier. She leaned into Elliot to whisper to him.

  “I'm going to lie down for a bit, will you be okay?”

  Elliot gave her a goofy smile “I'll be fine, go get a bit of rest; you've done all you need to.”

  Quinn slumped down onto one of the somewhat uncomfortable mattresses on the bottom bunk of three. She tried to take a moment to just be before poking the elephant in the room, but her swirling anxiety took that moment to go on a rapid offense. “Look how many you failed to save”, “You can barely fight, what a shit samurai you are”. Her thoughts spiraled deeper, using the spiral itself as a weapon against her “If you can't even hold yourself together how the fuck do you think you could do anything useful”.

  “Well now darling, you're sitting on a moderate stash of 153 points now, so we can talk upgrades before you head out again.”

  The sound of Irys in her head briefly shocked Quinn out of her spiral, and she desperately fought to keep her thoughts ordered and away from the swallowing whirlpool of despair. She didn't have a choice, she had to rip the bandaid off, ask the question that had been burning in her mind since the beginning.

  “About that.. Why did you pick me? I’m useless as a samurai. I’ve nearly had a breakdown like three times already, and I can’t cope with fighting directly. Why not pick Elliot?”

  There was a few seconds of pause before Irys responded. Her worst fears bloomed into her imagination again and again, this was a mistake, she'd stolen it from Elliot or someone else worth a fuck, She was going to fail them all.

  “Look, Quinn, I cannot divulge too much of the selection criteria, but I want to be candid with you: You do not meet the... Usual criteria for vanguard. You were an experimental pick, a gamble of mine that you can overcome a more challenging start because of your extremely high potential. So far, I’d contend that said gamble has paid off. You may not feel like it, but I fully believe that you can become one of the great samurai of your generation. Think about it Darling. You, unlike the entire rest of your group, took the step of finding something you could use as a weapon despite your challenges, and then fought off an abnormally large amount of antithesis for a pre-initialized vanguard. If that doesn’t prove your eligibility to yourself, I don’t know what will.”

  Quinn's thoughts were at war. On one side, the alliance of heartfelt encouragement and the feeling of having something worth something to give for the first time in her life fought against the power of fear and crippling self doubt. She clung to Irys' words like a buoy anchored on the edge of a maelstrom, assaulted by waves of vicious mental barbs concocted by her own traitorous mind.

  She didn’t know how long it took, time didn’t have much meaning when in combat with one's own thoughts, but somehow despite the track record of this war being heavily against her, she won. The maelstrom did not quiet, but she climbed that buoy out of it until she wasn’t near as affected any more. She took another deep breath, and made the decision.

  “If you’re going to pick me over people who deserve it more, I might as well at least try to make it worthwhile. How many points do I have?”

  Irys’ tone warmed “As I said, 153. Now, shall we talk upgrades?”