Sinner's Run

Administrator.

I know.

Does it have to do with Mister Welkin?

So it would seem.

What is our plan of action?

Remain watchful. An attempt to send a message is rather inconsequential. Only if the Run is breached will we act.

Understood. But if that does happen, what action do we take?

...

Administrator?

I think the action depends on the severity of breach, wouldn't you say?

Just so, Administrator.

Three weeks was a decent length of time in the real world. It had felt even longer to Noah, since his days were spent shooting and getting shot at. It had taken him no time at all to fall into a routine, if you could call it that. Wake up, mark off another tally on the tablet by his bedside table, get dressed, eat breakfast, then assemble for the Run. How long he survived usually depended on who his partner or partners were. When he was matched with Experiment 32 in doubles games, she carried the two of them to victory. Other times, Noah was matched with either Larka, Fidget, or both, and they managed to do okay enough, making the top 25% of teams before being eliminated.

After the Game was over, Noah would retreat to the firing range to work on his aim. He was getting better - very, very slowly. After that, dinner, then Noah would go to one of three places: his own room, where he would fall asleep almost instantly; Fidget's room, for anything from card games to sex (and one time a combination thereof); or Larka's room, where his earlier worries that the fraskarian would mind him hooking up with Fidget had been assuaged rather quickly.

"Ah! Finyan!"

Larka's broad arms clutched Noah to the curve of her naked body, her short, white fur tingling against his bare skin. Her legs were hooked around the back of his knees, a gentle way of keeping him in place as he plowed her. Blunt claws teased down his bare back as her hips rose to meet him, her slick warmth surrounding his cock.

Noah growled and bit down on Larka's nipple, flicking the tender bud with his tongue. She squirmed, panting into his hair. "I don't even have to encourage you anymore..." she breathed.

"I know what you like now," Noah replied. He nosed up her chest into the crook of her neck, lingering with his nose in the curve. Her musk filled his nose, earthy and feminine, a fragrance he wanted to bottle. He squeezed her sides, feeling the soft fur give way to hard muscle beneath. "And I just like all of you."

Larka laughed under her breath, pressing her forehead to Noah's. "Flatterer."

Noah hiked up his hips and picked up his pace, feeling his climax building in his loins. Larka let her head loll to the side, her eyes closed in bliss as Noah's deep thrusts sparked her own climax. Noah had learned to recognize the signs, different in both of his partners. Larka got very quiet when she came, letting herself revel in the sensations. Fidget, on the other hand, got very happy and giggly, her euphoria bubbling over. It fit their personalities to a T.

"Fuck!" Noah growled into Larka's fur. The feeling in his pelvis roiled over, and he thrust deep inside her one last time before his orgasm burst in her warm cunny. Stars winked in front of his eyes as warmth seeped into his very core from their meeting. His fingers curled into her fur and held on as he rode the pleasure, Larka's paws joining him to offer more stability.

When the moment passed, Noah slowly slid out of her. His cock bobbed upright, slick with a cocktail of his cum and her fluids. Noah put his hands on his thighs and caught his breath. "Phew."

"Mmm." Larka wriggled against the bedsheets. "Always a pleasure, finyan."

The sight of her lying in repose with his cum leaking out of her was intoxicating, an intimate sight no Rule 34 artist in the real world could fully capture. "I aim to please," he said, voice full of haughtiness. Larka chuckled and tossed a pillow at his face.

She let him clean up first. Noah always felt a little small in her shower, the space made for Larka's larger bulk. As he dried off with one of her extra-fluffy towels, Noah examined himself in the mirror. His hair had definitely grown out during his time here, the bangs now touching the tops of his eyes and the back creeping down towards his neck.

Not sure what I can really do about that,

he thought. On top of that, he'd definitely lost some weight from all the running around on the Run. His cheeks were less pudgy, his torso a little slimmer. He still couldn't keep up with the rest of the Primes when it came to sprinting towards and away from gunfights, though. And despite the day in and day out fighting, he didn't feel physically exhausted like he suspected he should. On top of that, it seemed his earlier worry about him wasting away in the physical world - if that's what was in fact going on - wasn't going to come to fruition.

Noah leaned on the sink, examining himself in the mirror. But even after almost a month of leaving the messages on the Run, nothing had changed. The Games still happened, and Nala still tried to kill him at every possible opportunity, with the exception of when they bumped into one another at the firing range. He didn't know what he expected to happen if his messages reached any of the game's players, if they did at all.

Cold dread settled in the pit of his stomach.

What if this is my life from now on?

Warm paws wrapped around his midriff and pulled him into an embrace. "What troubles you, finyan?" A broad nose nuzzled the crown of his head.

Noah settled into the curve of Larka's body. "Just wondering when Nala's going to lay off me is all," he said. It wasn't

technically

a lie. Nala's insistence on trying to maim him on sight was, after all, troubling.

Larka growled a little. "Her stubborn refusal to back down is maddening. Yet, it's strange. She's been quite open with me in the past about sensitive matters such as this, but refuses to explain herself to me whenever I demand it. And it's not like I can keep her shut up in my quarters here until she divulges the answer. That breaks the unspoken rule of no conflict in the Barracks."

"That's a rule?" Noah asked.

"Ever since you brought it up a few weeks ago I've been thinking on it. It seems to just be one of those things. Because if one person does it and there's no repercussions, what's to stop Primes from getting armaments from the firing range and bringing the conflict here? It defeats the whole point of the Run." Larka hugged him a little tighter. "Plus, I am not sure if the...safeguards that exist on the Run exist here."

He put his hands over her paws. "You mean there's no guarantee we'd come back if we died here in the Barracks."

"Exactly so."

"Well that's a sobering thought."

"True. But it is one that bears thinking about every so often."

Noah nodded. It made a certain sort of sense. "I just wish Nala would talk to me," he said, tugging the flow of the conversation back from the darker path it had wandered down. "She was all friendly when I first showed up, but after that first game I haven't been able to exchange any words with her past bandied insults." He made a face. "And she's way better at even that than I am."

"Time will tell, finyan. Time will tell."

Noah left her to clean up, moving back into her quarters as she showered. When she finished, she emerged wrapped in a fluffy towel. "Goodnight, finyan," she said, nuzzling his face. "I will see you tomorrow."

"Yeah," Noah said, returning the nuzzle. "Tomorrow."

And the day after that, presumably. And the day after that.

Noah's walk back to his quarters was quiet and contemplative. Now that the sex afterglow had dissipated, that sense of gnawing dread about the future returned. He would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy getting laid on an almost nightly basis. But it seemed like he was using it as a crutch to avoid thinking about more unpleasant topics. He laughed under his breath.

I'm suprised it's not a complete fuckfest around here for that exact reason.

He went to bed as soon as he got back to his room, but it took him a while to actually fall asleep. Noah stared at the ceiling thinking for a long, long time.

...message...programmer...instructions below.

Noah blinked and rubbed his eyes, feeling lethargic despite having gotten a full night's sleep. Just one of those off nights, he supposed. The tablet on his bedside table was blinking, and he grabbed it to check the roster for the Game that day.

"Squads of two," he muttered, running his finger down the line of text on the screen. "Team ten, Noah Welkin and..." The pit of his stomach dropped out. "And and andandand..."

Seeing Nala's name next to his own triggered a profound, primal fear that lurked in the recesses of his mind. Said fear was built on the visage of fangs and claws that had dogged him through his past month on the Run. But if they were paired up together, would she even be able to harm him? In the Sinner's Run game, while your shots could still hit your allies and the projectiles would vanish, they would deal no damage. Same thing for melee attacks, explosions, and damage-dealing abilities.

But even if she couldn't outright hurt him, there were still a myriad of ways Nala could screw him over. Not to mention Noah wasn't exactly in the mood for being berated by the kaldar at every turn. But what could he do? It's not like there was a way to petition for a change in partners. He was stuck. His only option was to suck it up and hope for the best.

Noah got dressed, taking a bit longer than normal while still being aware of the time. With everything in order, he opened the door to leave his quarters.

Nala was standing right outside, her head bowed. As soon as the door opened, her eyes snapped up to him. Noah jumped, scrambling backwards to put some distance between her and him. "Gah!"

"Man, it's like a skittish horse with you," Nala said. Her eyes moved around his quarters through the open door, taking in the spartan furnishings. She didn't remark on them, just inclined her head down the hall. "Come on. You've still got time to eat if you haven't." She turned on her heel and stalked off.

Noah took a moment to make sure his heart wasn't about to claw its way up and out of his esophagus before following after her. Nala was already almost at the Atrium, her tail slinking out of view around the corner. He debated either following her or retreating into his room and sealing the door shut behind him.

"Bit of a rough get, eh?" Quirrel's rough voice accompanied his heavy bootsteps as he walked past Noah. "You a bettin' man, mister Welkin?"

Despite Quirrel taking the time to show Noah how to shoot once, the crass mercenary had shown no mercy towards Noah in the weeks following. He still outgunned Noah whenever they crossed paths, unless Noah was paired with Experiment 32, in which case she usually eliminated him before he got his sights on Noah. Outside of that, he usually stuck to snide comments, which unnerved Noah more than Nala's open contempt of him. At least he knew how the kaldar felt - he couldn't for the life of him get a read on Quirrel.

"Not really," he answered. "But I'll hear you out anyway."

"Considerin' you'll come back, what do ya think is the over-under on her guttin' ya like a fish out there on the Run today?" Quirrel fixed him with a smug sidelong glance. "I think you'll be FIFO'd myself."

Noah gave him a flat look. "Well, thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Just sayin,' chum! That cat's been trying to flay you alive for weeks with no success. Now, whoever plays matchmaker around here just served you up to her on a silver platter!" His heavy hand clapped Noah on the shoulder. "My sympathies. Hope it don't hurt too much!" Quirrel cackled as he strode off down the hall. Noah glowered at his shoulders, then got a move on after him.

Nala was sitting by herself in the mess hall as Noah got his eggs and sausage for breakfast. He looked around the room, but neither Larka nor Fidget were around. He had no other choice.

The kaldar said nothing as he sat down across from her and began to eat. Her only reaction was to fix her eyes on his face. Noah tried his best not to acknowledge it, keeping his head angled down towards his food as he shoved it into his mouth far faster than he usually ate. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Experiment 32 enter the mess hall.

Probably going to have to skip leaving the message today,

he thought.

32 scanned the room for him, and took a step towards their table when she spotted him. But then she realized who was sitting near him and stopped. Noah gave her an apologetic shrug. 32 nodded once and mouthed,

Later.

She turned and left. Noah stared after her. What did she have to tell him? Had something happened?

"What are you and her up to?" Nala asked.

Noah coughed once, managing not to spray food out of his mouth. "I - ack! - I dunno what you mean," he said.

"Oh, don't play dumb with me," Nala said, her voice getting that dangerous tinge to it that haunted his nightmares.

"We're not 'up to' anything," Noah insisted, stabbing a chunk of sausage with his spork. As he ate, he couldn't resist a follow-up comment. "And even if we were it's not like I'd let

you

in on it, given how you've been trying to shred me like a curtain for weeks now."

Her lips pulled back from her fangs slightly. "Listen here, Killer..."

A tray loaded with three massive omelettes crashed down next to them. "Good morning!" Fidget said in a sing-song voice as she parked herself next to Noah.

Nala's tail lashed like a whip, as if she were about to lunge across the table at the mechanic. At least until another breakfast tray loaded with what looked like fruit appeared on Nala's side of the table, followed shortly by Larka's heavy bulk next to Nala herself. "Magras tiye," Larka said.

Noah projected all of his thanks into a gaze directed at the fraskarian. She nodded once, then gave Nala a sidelong glance. Nala growled, but forced herself to unclench from her aggressive posture. She folded her arms and hunched over, glowering at Noah all the while. They ate in silence - well, for the most part. Fidget seemed driven to fill the void with as much chatter as possible.

When they were finished, it was almost time for the Game. As they left, Larka patted Noah on the lower back. "May we meet on the battlefield, finyan," she said.

"If Nala doesn't immediately axe me upon landing," Noah muttered.

"If she wishes to win, which I know she does, she will refrain from doing so." She gave him another reassuring pat. "Come, Fidget."

"'Kay!" The plucky mechanic booped Noah on the nose on her way past. "Seeya out there, Noah!"

Noah nodded. "See ya." Fidget skipped away next to Larka.

Nala pushed her way past him. "Let's just get this over with," she grunted.

"Yeah," Noah said, following after her. "Let's."

The pair of them kept to the edge of the pack of assembled Primes in the Atrium. Noah looked across the sea of faces. As he did, he met Quirrel's eyes. The mercenary grinned at him, then mimed cutting his own throat with his thumb. Noah groaned and shut his eyes.

Then the now-familiar sensation of being weightless came over him. His body was used to the impact of thudding into the dropship seat, the restraining harness pulled tight over his torso. For a brief moment, he hoped he'd be in control of where he and Nala dropped. His hopes were dashed like a candle flame as he saw the holographic map flicker to life in front of Nala. The kaldar tapped a location almost immediately, as if she'd had the idea in her head from the very moment she'd gotten out of bed.

One by one the other teams vanished, until only her and Noah were left. "Where are we going?" Noah asked over the din of the dropship engines.

A moment later he got his answer, as he and Nala were ejected from the dropship at almost the last possible moment. They were over the northeast quadrant of the map, an area covered in a light dusting of snow. At the center of the area was the Hostel drop zone, another hit-or-miss area as far as loot went.

Nala said nothing as they approached the ground, nor when they angled their bodies upright to land on their feet outside the hostel building. One floor of the building was above ground, and there was a whole underground section that emptied out through a pipe onto the frozen lake behind the cabin. Noah shivered and hugged himself against the chill of the area. He made an attempt at small talk. "How the heck do you think they get it to be this cold here when the rest of the map is-"

Nala spun around and tried to punch him in the face. However, she didn't succeed. As her knuckles zeroed on on Noah's jaw, they stopped dead in midair for a split-second before rebounding with an electrical zapping noise. "Motherfuck!" Nala hissed, all of her fur standing up on end. She shook out her hand, doubled over in stinging pain.

"Really?" Noah said, throwing his arms up. "Right off the bat?"

"No better time for it," Nala said, looking at her knuckles. "Figured I might as well make an attempt of it."

"Then how were you going to win if you managed it?"

"I would've figured out something." She jerked her head at the hostel. "Come on. Let's see what we can find."

His fear of being maimed by his own teammate abated, Noah followed Nala up the slope to Hostel. The doors slid open to admit them, a wave of warm air rushing out to meet them. Inside, the place was set up like a cozy winter cabin. Heating coils were tucked into a hearth in one corner, and much of the floor space was taken up with wooden furniture on which the loot rested.

Nala grabbed a Level 2 armor off the counter, along with the N-99 resting next to it and the ammo pickups. Noah found a Level 1 armor along with a couple of healing hypos, and made sure to grab all of them. He moved on to the next room, which had large glass windows that could be used to survey the area around the Hostel if you decided to hole up in the building, or be shot into from the outside if you were attacking. He found a Cricket and an N-10 on the floor, along with spare ammo for the former. In the corner was a storage deck expansion, and he made sure to pick that up as well.

As he straightened up, bullets zipped through the open windows, chunking the wall next to him and scoring a hit that knocked half his armor off. "Shit, Nala!" he yelled, sprinting out of the room. "We've got company!"

"Did you see who it was?" she asked.

"No, but they're coming from the south!"

Nala looked like she was about to berate him for not seeing who was attacking them, but the answer revealed itself a moment later. The eerie silhouette of the Pontiff appeared at door, spraying into the cabin with a Cricket of his own. Nala and Noah took cover behind the furniture. Out of the corner of his eye, Noah spotted Abbess vaulting up onto the deck outside. "Abbess outside," he said.

"I see her." Nala lifted the N-99 and fired out the window at Abbess in short, controlled bursts. At the same time, Noah braced his Cricket on the low wall they were behind and blindfired in the direction he thought the Pontiff was. Retreating footsteps indicated he'd gotten it right.

"Do we make a run for it?" he asked as he reloaded.

"Hell no," Nala said, her ears pricked to keep track of where their attackers were moving outside. "Of course you'd suggest that. They picked this fight and came to us, Killer." She shifted to a crouched position, angling her body to try to spot someone through the glass.

Noah bit back a caustic remark. Now wasn't the time. "I'll make some noise," he said. Before Nala could protest, he'd gotten to his feet and ran back into the room he'd looted before. He vaulted over the windowsill, back out into the cold. To his left, he saw Abbess duck out of sight around the corner.