Chapter Text
“Any man that falls behind gets left behind.”
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Yuugi Mouto, age eighteen, breathed harshly as he tried to hide in the bushes. It was cold and wet, and shivers raced up his spine. He held his gun in ghost-white hands, and tried to make himself as small as possible. The sounds of fighting could be heard over his breathing, and he wished desperately that he were with the main group. There was safety in numbers, and his nervousness increased the longer he hid there.
Every gunshot and scream kept him there in frozen terror. He knew that he had to get moving, that he had to catch up with his squad before it was too late. They would not wait for him, not even Jou would risk his neck to wait for him. Not that Yuugi blamed him. Survival was the only thing on everyone’s mind right now.
Coming up with enough courage to move was impossible. Yuugi had never been the best soldier; he wasn’t a fighter, and he would rather stay out of a conflict than charge into it guns blazing. He had known from the instant they had shown him the papers of his drafting that he wouldn’t be alive for much longer.
Cautiously (and shakily), he peeked out from his bush. Smoke trails streaked across the nearby open area as his people returned fire against the enemy. Bright flashes of color distinguished the enemy from his comrades, and he could see the distinct outline of humans and Khemetians through the haze.
He ducked back behind his bush. Maybe, if he just stayed quiet and stayed hidden, he could escape. He could escape the army and the awful was he had been dragged in to. He could start a new life somewhere removed from all this fighting, and live in peace.
“Except, no one who abandons a battlefield survives,” Yuugi thought bitterly, as he tried to remain quiet. The drill instructors back at base were very clear about that. If you weren’t dead, those left behind on the field went missing. No one knew what happened to them, nor if they were living or dead. They just…weren’t there anymore. The soldiers on base often wove gruesome stories about what the Khemetians did to their victims, and Yuugi had no intention of finding out.
“Shit, was that footsteps?!” Yuugi tried desperately to stifle his breathing. Sounds from the woods surrounding him terrified him. He had to get moving. If he didn’t, then they would surely catch him. “Get moving, Yuugi! Now! Hurry!” His legs were frozen. He could hear the calls for retreat from his squad, and the advancement of the enemy on his position.
Golden armor stalked out of the woods, gleaming brightly in defiance to the cloudy day. Eyes he did not want to see spotted his hiding place within seconds, and his mouth went dry in terror. They had found him. He had to run. He had to run! Now!
Dont panic, Yugi told himself. Whatever you do, don't panic!
The enemy, in their gleaming armor, continued to advance. There was six of them, that he could see. They all carried close-range weapons, and if he still had bullets, then he would have had an advantage. Maybe he could bluff?
Slowly, Yugi started to inch his way backwards. His mind raced through the possibilities. He was outnumbered, but they were all in front of him. If he was fast, he might be able to lose them in the surrounding woods.
He took two more steps before spinning and taking off in the opposite direction. The enemy would follow, they weren't known to leave stragglers behind. The sound of pursuit was close behind him, and he tried to zig-zag. They would most likely be faster than him, so a straight line would be the death of him.
Suddenly, his foot was yanked out from underneath him. He fell to the ground, and his gun flew from his hands. It hurt. Whatever was wrapped around his leg felt like it was on fire. He scrambled around for something to defend himself with. His hand enclosed around a small, smooth handle, and, with a desperate prayer, he swung it at the taunt whip. There was a flash of light as a blade extended from the small handle.
The fire-whip disappeared from his ankle, and Yugi scrambled to get back on his feet. Pain stabbed through his wounded leg, and he stumbled. He chocked on a yell, and ground his teeth together.
“Damnit,” he swore. He moved his weight onto his good leg and held the bladed weapon in front of him defensibly. The enemy was circling him now, and he hobbled backwards. The six from earlier had surrounded him, and it looked like there were more coming from the woods.
“Shit!” he swore again. He was greatly outnumbered now, and he couldn't make a run for it. “Leave me alone!” he yelled, brandishing his weapon. The extended blade flashed in the sunlight.
The enemy in front of him suddenly lunged at him. It was through sheer luck and reaction that Yugi managed to parry the attack. His whole body shuddered with the force behind it. He pushed against the enemy. Disengaging and stumbling back a few steps.
Again, his opponent lunged at him, and again, he managed to block it. He twisted away from the blade, and crashed to the ground. The enemy did not advance as Yugi struggled to get back up. The other warriors stood in a silent circle, locking Yugi and his opponent in their own world.
There was a sudden, overwhelming sense of being cornered, a callback from his days in high school. His opponent approached him, and he reacted by swiping at him. His weapon whistled throught eh air, just barely missing his opponent's armor. In this motion, when his body was fully extended, he realized how dangerous it was. His opponent swung his blade toward his exposed side, a perfect killing shot.
It happened so fast that he didn't even have time to move. As the enemy's blade froze mere inches from his throat. He was dead, completely and utterly dead. He was extremely outmatched in skill.
He was going to die.
Yugi tightened his grip on his blade as his opponent began to talk to one of the men in the circle. What was going on? How come he hadn't been killed yet? What were they talking about?
Suddenly, the man his opponent had been talking to broke the circle and approached him with purposeful steps. Yugi flinched away as he grabbed at him, and his attention refocused on this new threat as his opponent's blade withdrew. With a grunt of effort, Yugi swung his blade at this other man.
“Ah!” A staff whistled through the air and blocked his attack, and a second later, his sword was knocked out of his hands. Before he could do anything, the man had grabbed him by the arm and hauled him onto his feet.
Everything blurred from there. Struggling, he was taken away from the clearing. He tried really hard not to panic, and to pay attention to his surroundings. He caught a glimpse of his previous opponent reaching down to retrieve Yugi's fallen sword; and another glimpse of a group of armed soldiers entering the clearing.
The back of his neck was grabbed and he was forced to walk at an awkward angle, with his face facing the ground. Every time he stumbled, his escort hauled him back to his feet.
There was no abrupt change in scenery when they came upon a ship. From his angle, he couldn't see the outside of it, but he got a glimpse of its size when he was hauled inside.
“H-hey!” he shouted as he was roughly pushed into a corner. He was frisked, and his only other weapon, a small pocket knife his grandpa had gotten him before he had been drafted, was taken from him. He was then chained to a fixture in the ceiling. His retraints glowed a soft yellow.
And just like that, he was left alone, chained to the inside of a ship.
“Fuck my life.”