Mordred 3.3

The blow threw me back by more than ten feet. It was a hard blow but it was not directed by the six Cohens’. It was from another source.

Or sources.

“You are better, Guardian.” The voice was from the top of the hangar. It was another man seated on the upper beam at the ceiling. “I am named Black.”

“And I am White.” The other was a lady seated on another beam nearby. “We are the Cohens’ elders.”

“I knew you before. You were once wizards of the land.” I asked them weakly. “Were you on the craft with me?”

“Yes. We were Fangnir custodians then, and we learned some new skilled crafts from it.” Black replied. “Something which Merlin may not approved.”

“Fangnir? Is it alive?” I asked again. I could only recalled was the crash and then among the survivals, I could not find Fangnir. I wanted to know then but Black denied me the knowledge.

“Yes, you may join it soon.” Black replied while preparing another energy blast for me. 

Blam! Blam! That was Daley again. The idiot was shooting at the duo on the beam. He missed but the Black one hit him with a black streak at his chest which knocked him back. I was too far to assist him but I used the Colt still in my right hand.

Blam! I aimed at Black but White jumped over to protect the other. The bullet with its modified properties pierced the shield created by White and hit her in the shoulder. She fell off the beam when Black was reaching for her. He lost his balance and fell off too. They landed hard but we were all hurt then. I tried to raise my body but it was not responding at all. I then rolled over to my side to face the duo. They were already on their feet and looking mean. The lady was hurt and she looked pissed.

“Guardian, you are good but even the best can be beaten.” Black taunted me then before raising his hand. I saw the energy build up there and was prepared to face the fate that awaits me. I closed my eyes but it never came.

 Or maybe it was scared by the loud noise which resounded at my ears. I looked over and saw the duo on the flooring.

“You guys ever wished I remained dead?” That voice belonged to Charlie. “What your spells could not do, my gun will pick them off like stool pigeons.”

Charlie was the last member of the team. He was military for twenty years before he got taken off for medical reasons. He was diagnosed as dangerous to continue. He went into retirement but was the first to volunteer. The definition of volunteer was maybe a misconception here. In one of our early tasks, we were caught in an ambush when Charlie stepped in with his gun. His gun was a modified M60 with the backpack containing his ammo named Aunt Litzy. The gun fired at 500 rounds per second with a muzzle velocity at 800 metres per seconds. The gun delivered the killer blow to the creature then. He soon joined us as the backup team. .

Soon the surviving Cohens’ were all in restraint.