...And...
Just like that, Naoko was gone from Luca's shoulder.
A few seconds later, one of the zombies felt a little bit of an impact through its armor, as if it had been struck by one of the bullets. All unknowing, it jogged on, arms reaching. But then it felt another impact, and another, and another. It looked down, confused.
And Naoko, teeth bared, punched a hole through its already damaged neckpeice.
Shattering it hurt her hand and sent needle-like slivers of super-microbial metalweave through her skin to bite into her nerves and muscles, but she had already stopped listening to the bit of her mind that governed pain. Throwing her elbow into the mess, rending the shattered fragments away, she began to tear into the zombie's throat.
The zombie threw up its hands, stumbling in its shambling run, and began to flail at its neck. Turning and lashing out, Naoko severed the meaty fingers trying to clutch her with a single swipe from her small knife-hand. Then she rounded on the creature with the hate-filled grimace of a demon, cocked her fist, and smashed directly through the creature's spinal cord head-on. The zombie fell with a thud, red life spewing out of the ruptured neckpeice as the head lolled at an angle.
The next one fared no better; the initial impact of the furious, gravity-manipulating projectile shattered its kneecap and sent it toppling down to the floor. Shortly thereafter, Naoko shoved a shard of its own facepeice through its eye, yanked it around, and the zombie stopped twitching.
The bloody Naoko stood again, cocking her legs beneath her as she prepared to jump for her next victim. Then she saw it; the zombie that wasn't shambling along at a jog, but instead, moving with a purpose. The zombie with the breastplate, that was actually a breastplate.
It was the Nekovalkyrja.
Just like that, Naoko was gone from Luca's shoulder.
A few seconds later, one of the zombies felt a little bit of an impact through its armor, as if it had been struck by one of the bullets. All unknowing, it jogged on, arms reaching. But then it felt another impact, and another, and another. It looked down, confused.
And Naoko, teeth bared, punched a hole through its already damaged neckpeice.
Shattering it hurt her hand and sent needle-like slivers of super-microbial metalweave through her skin to bite into her nerves and muscles, but she had already stopped listening to the bit of her mind that governed pain. Throwing her elbow into the mess, rending the shattered fragments away, she began to tear into the zombie's throat.
The zombie threw up its hands, stumbling in its shambling run, and began to flail at its neck. Turning and lashing out, Naoko severed the meaty fingers trying to clutch her with a single swipe from her small knife-hand. Then she rounded on the creature with the hate-filled grimace of a demon, cocked her fist, and smashed directly through the creature's spinal cord head-on. The zombie fell with a thud, red life spewing out of the ruptured neckpeice as the head lolled at an angle.
The next one fared no better; the initial impact of the furious, gravity-manipulating projectile shattered its kneecap and sent it toppling down to the floor. Shortly thereafter, Naoko shoved a shard of its own facepeice through its eye, yanked it around, and the zombie stopped twitching.
The bloody Naoko stood again, cocking her legs beneath her as she prepared to jump for her next victim. Then she saw it; the zombie that wasn't shambling along at a jog, but instead, moving with a purpose. The zombie with the breastplate, that was actually a breastplate.
It was the Nekovalkyrja.